The Pursuit of Happiness
by WindStar
Summary: Sequel to Where All Roads Lead: Loki wants nothing more than to achieve his own happiness. He wants it, and is willing to do anything he can to get it back. Meanwhile, Thor is trying to do anything he can just to keep his brother alive, something that seems to be a lot harder than it should be.
1. Chapter 1

**Windstar:** This is the sequel to _Where All Roads Lead_. In that story, we find that Thor made a poor decision and led to Loki being cursed to never be able to achieve happiness. I would strongly encourage you to read that story before you start on this one as the specific details of the curse are explained in much more detail. I hope you all enjoy this story, it has been completed and so it's just a matter of posting.

**Disclaimer: **This story is a not for profit work that is written for the express hope of enjoyment of the fan community. All characters are the property of Marvel Corporation and it affiliates.

**Chapter One: **

_The fire of Muspelheim raged around him, and had he been a lesser god – he knew he would die. As it was, Loki did not fear this place. He had cast a very strong protective barrier around him, and he knew just as well that two could play at this game. Every step he took sent ice into the ground beneath him, and froze it for a moment longer than absolutely necessary. He was purposefully keeping the ice alive – and the trail was large enough for any self-respecting fire-giant to trace. _

_He was not surprised in the slightest when a relatively angry welcome met him at the front gate of Surtr's palace. He didn't care, though. He smiled winningly at the guards that were around the palace walls – and then promptly sent a wave of furious power straight at them. _

_Giants went flying, the gates crushed under the power of his rage. Loki marched through the castle with no trouble – anyone who attempted to stop him was immediately repelled with power that was unparalleled. He'd been working on this plan longer than any other, and now that it was here before him – he could taste the victory that was at hand. _

_The doors to Surtr's throne room were smashed open with a twist of his hand, and Loki stood before the master of this realm with his head held high and a leering smile on his face. The King stood, walking down his steps and approaching the much smaller nobleman before him. _

"_Well, well, well…if it isn't the frost-giant in godly clothing." Surtr smiled at him, smoke billowed from his mouth as his large hands settled on his even wider hips. Loki kept grinning up at him, confidence rolling off of him in waves. _

"_I have a proposition for you, Surtr. One that I would strongly urge you to consider." The King laughed, fire and smoke dancing around his lips and sliding over his shoulders. The smell of sulfur was thick in the air and it was choking to breathe even one lungful. Loki didn't so much as wince at it. _

"_You cannot honestly believe you have anything to bargain with, son of Laufey?" Loki didn't so much as flinch at the title, he just dipped his head. _

"_I do. I will give you what you want most in this world, if you will give me what I want most."_

"_And what would that be, little prince?" Loki raised his hand, and a silver wisp of magic joined with blue beams of light, all circling his palm and joining together until a swirling mist of color and power was there to behold. _

"_This is a gateway, one that I control and warp to suit my needs. What I'm offering, Surtr, is Asgard itself. I will bring your army there, and you may lay siege to it – as you've always wanted. You will no longer be held captive in this realm." Surtr grinned toothily. _

"_And in return?" He asked lightly. _

"_My happiness, back, without the unfortunate side effect of killing me the moment I achieve it." Surtr's laughter echoed through the entire realm – knocking against granite and fire, and cascading around the burning sands of volcanic ash. _

"_Over one thousand years have passed without it, why wish it now?" _

"_Asgard, for what you took from me as a child. That is your offer." Loki stated firmly, refusing to answer the giant or deliberate any further with him. The giant laughed louder this time, before slowly crouching so he was able to look the god in the eye. _

"_Your offer…is denied." Shock crossed Loki's features, and suddenly from the ground around him – giants sprang up- blocking any hopes for escape. The earth shifted away as the entire hall was filled with them. They burst from the shadows, forming themselves before his eyes and as he reached for his power to blast them all back – Surtr reached for his and sent a raging beam of fire down at the god's startled body. Surtr's gift tore through the Prince's shields and barricades, and the god hit the ground in pain. _

"_You wish to be trapped here for all time? To never again be able to conquer other realms? I'm giving you your freedom!" Loki hissed as he struggled against the heat. He felt his brow begin to dampen badly, his skin starting to flake – he hated this heat. _

"_No, boy, I wish to be free. But my freedom will not come from a treacherous snake like you. You, who murdered your own kin in order to keep the charade of your heritage going? You, who betrayed Laufey with the same promise you spin to me? I would never trust you to honor this arrangement. You were cursed to be a miserable wretch for all times and nothing you have to offer will change that. I have not the patience or tolerance for one such as you." Surtr flicked his hand and the very ground beneath Loki burst into flames._

_The god bit back a scream, but soon it didn't matter. His mind shifted and fell – loosing its processing as he was scorched from all sides. "You deserve all of this and more frost giant. You dare march into my realm and command me? Die! You arrogant creature!" Surtr was glowering angrily at him, and Loki finally managed to look up passed the flames to meet his eyes. _

"_You will regret this day." He said softly, but Surtr just laughed. _

"_I have nothing to regret. You, exiled little creature that you are, have no one to avenge you. Laufey did not deserve the punishment you bestowed upon him, and now…you will die." Fire burst through him, and Loki shouted in pain once more, his skin tore off. His eyes burst from heat, his blood hardened in his vessels and exploded out of their veins. _

_When his death came, it came with pain and fire and torment. When the fire stopped, all that was left of him was a scorched corpse that was smoking from every orifice. Surtr's laughter coursed through Muspelheim and the sons of Muspel joined in. _

_Loki was dead, and there was nothing anyone could do about it._

* * *

Thor shot up in bed, his breath catching in his throat and vomit following shortly there after. He turned on his side and he started to heave – unable to even get out of the tangle of sheets to save the trouble of a mess later. His heart was fluttering badly in his chest and he was almost certain that it was going to burst from stress.

Tears were in his eyes, but he shook those off quickly. Stumbling, he threw the sheets off of him, kicking wildly as they knotted about his legs. They ripped under the strain of his movements, but he didn't have the patience to care. He pushed himself from his bed, and he stumbled towards the door. Throwing it open, he moved faster than he had in a long while.

It was still early in the morning, and the halls were all but abandoned – save for the dutiful servant that was preparing for the next day's activities. The few he did pass frowned at him slightly, but said nothing. He didn't care if the rumors started spreading about how the Prince of Asgard was rushing about like a mad man in the wee hours of the night dressed only in a nightshirt. His brother's corpse was still visible in his mind's eye and he was desperate to have it be removed.

Anxiously approaching the room where his brother had been residing in since his return to Asgard, Thor pressed the door open without so much as a knock. He reached automatically towards the lantern that was always placed near the doorway. It's low light had been turned down for the evening, but the flame was still lit. Turning the knob on it, it burst into light and the lantern began to glow brightly.

It shed its beams onto the only bed in the room. It was empty, but it usually was. Thor directed the lantern over to the left, where books had been piled in troves around a desk with a wooden chair. Nothing. Panic started to mount in Thor's heart as he turned the lantern to the last part of the room, a large leather chair that Loki had acquired during one of his more legitimate business dealings in the past. It was big enough to seat a giant, and Loki fairly needed to leap to get into it, but often he'd enjoy curling onto the large seat with one of his books and flip through the pages of it in the comfort of his "throne" (as Thor constantly teased him it was).

To his utter delight, there lay his brother. Curled under a sable blanket, and hand lying idly on a book – Loki was sleeping soundly and without complaint. His black hair was tousled from rest, and his features were relaxed. Still disbelieving the sight, the dream having been far too realistic for Thor's tastes, the god of thunder hurried towards the chair, and clambered onto it. The movement immediately made Loki's eyes twitch in his sleep.

His face scrunched with confusion and he shifted – turning slightly and opening his eyes to look up at Thor. Startled by the nearness and brightness of his brother and the lantern, Loki threw himself backwards – a startled shout pulling its way from his mouth. A force of magic threw itself directly into Thor's chest and he went hurtling off of the throne. The lantern went smashing to the ground, and the flame and oil took great joy with the extra space and free limitations they received.

Immediately the fire sprang to life – edging closer and closer towards the books that Loki kept near by. "Oh you great _idiot_!" Loki shouted as he threw a hand out and allowed his power to settle on the flames. They froze mid stride, frozen literally in place, leaving the books untouched and safe from their damaging presence. Loki slid from the chair and immediately kicked the ice.

It shattered into pieces and scattered across the floor – away from the books, and away from anything damaging. From there, when the fire finally broke through the ice, and it melted into harmless water that didn't seep into anything of importance. Loki glared at the puddles though, and directed his gaze promptly towards his adoptive brother.

"_Yes_, Thor, what _can _I do for you?" He hissed in frustration. The god of thunder was staring at him like he had two heads, and Loki was fast growing impatient with his brother's idiocy at this time of night. He opened his mouth to say something else, when Thor threw his arms around him and held him close. Startled to say the least, Loki's first reaction was to throw him off of him, but Thor's hold was too strong and eventually the younger god waited and let him do as he would. "Whatever is the matter with you, you great lummox?" He asked wearily as Thor continued to hold him.

Thor's heart was hammering against his chest, and Loki could feel it beat against his own. It was beating out of control, and the young god wasn't foolish enough to believe that all was well with his brother. Something had worked him up to this state, and whatever it was was clearly of great importance to the older god.

"You died." Thor stated suddenly, pulling away from Loki long enough to look at him. His hands cupped Loki's face, and the god of mischief scowled.

"I'm still alive, and would you stop that? You're acting like a love-sick puppy." Anger crossed Thor's face at that and he shoved Loki away from him.

"Do not mock my affection towards you, you know full well that it is nothing more than brotherly."

"Do not act like a swooning maid then!" Loki snapped back. Thor's fists were clenched at his sides.

"Can you not accept that I was worried for you?"

"You had a bad dream, and you rush into my bedroom acting as a child, and you wish me to show you sympathy? You are over a millennium years old, and you were frightened over a nightmare! Shall I take you to the kitchens for a glass of warm milk then, brother?" Loki hissed, and the anger in Thor's face dissipated. He took a great calming breath, before smiling at Loki.

"Yes, please. Since you asked _so nicely_." He griped, and Loki rolled his eyes, hint of a smile growing on his face.

"Truly you are impossible, Thor."

"You called me brother before." He pointed out, and Loki sighed heavily, leaning back against the bottom of his great chair.

"Slip of the tongue, 'tis nothing more." There was sadness in the younger god's face, though, and Thor shook his head.

"It is one I would welcome more often. You are quite adamant on not using such affectionate terms, but I do like them."

"The fact you find 'brother' to be affectionate worries me…_Thor_." A wry smile crossed Loki's lips, and the god of thunder let out a booming laugh, relaxing as they settled into the familiar banter that he was used to.

Loki's barbed tongue was sharp and lethal, but if you found humor in it and parleyed with him – it became a game: a game that Loki enjoyed quite a bit as well. It never made him _happy _per say, but it enabled him to find amusement for a short and temporary piece of time. It was all that he could achieve.

If you were willing to play the game, then Loki would relax and the wisps of sincerity would come through. Thor could almost time it exactly to the point when his brother would ask:

"And whatever _are _you dreaming of me for?" The last tendrils of tension left him, and Thor ran a hand through his hair. He had needed this confirmation to make it all better.

"You were in Muspelheim." The smile Loki had been forming disappeared immediately and he scowled.

"You were dreaming of the day you nearly killed me?" Thor shook his head.

"No, you were on your own. You went to challenge Surtr…you offered him Asgard in return for your…happiness."

"What an idea." Loki seemed annoyingly entertained by the prospect and Thor sent him a warning glare. Loki rolled his eyes. "Brother, I just tried that tactic on Laufey, do you really find me foolish enough to do the same on Surtr? The damned creature would never believe me." Thor took a deep breath and smiled in relief.

"Yes, well, that is what led to your death, brother." Loki nodded lightly.

"So…I shall cross that off the list of ways to attempt to gain my happiness back, shall I?" The jest was lost on Thor whose mouth dropped slightly.

"You're looking into it?" He asked dumbly, and Loki rolled his eyes. He turned his back on Thor, and began to pick up the pieces of the lantern that had shattered not too long before.

"Of course I'm looking into it, Thor. Do you honestly think that I want to live without it?"

"You have for centuries."

"And I have suffered for it." Loki returned evenly. "Can you honestly admit that I have been a pleasurable being over the past one thousand years?" Thor smiled gently at him.

"I have never minded your presence brother."

"You've felt guilt over my state of life, it is little wonder why you're inept brain believes that I'm an acceptable friend." Loki said it sharply, but his expression conveyed a different meaning. Thor sighed.

"You are a good person, Loki-"

"I'm a foul person, and you are truly trying far too hard." Standing up from the mess on the floor, Loki began to walk towards a small bin for trash, and he deposited the broken glass and dented metal inside of it. "Come now, brother, you wanted that drink – yes?" It was as clear of a change of topics as Loki wished it to be, and Thor nodded his head.

He understood. For now, the topic was done.


	2. Chapter 2

**Windstar: **Thank you so much to all of my wonderful reviewers. I truly appreciate you all taking the time out of your day to post something. Every comment truly helps, and I'm more than willing to incorporate any suggestions that you have into the story - you just need to tell me about them! Thank you once more for reviewing, and I hope you enjoy this next installment.

**Disclaimer: **Please see the first chapter.

**Chapter: **

Loki watched in relative silence as his brother chatted happily with the night staff. The large man was sipping at a mug of warmed milk completely at ease with his state of life. After talking in Loki's room, Thor seemed to have relaxed a great deal. Now, there was only small traces of anxiety lingered. Every so often he'd look over at Loki, as though to ensure that he was really there, and then he would return his gaze to the cooks and speak more with them.

Loki had long ago realized that his brother was fairly incapable of being anything less than the center of attention. He surrounded himself with people who sang him praises, and he didn't know what to do if the attention was elsewhere. For this, Loki was grateful, because he never wanted to be the focus of everyone's gaze. Usually when it _was _on him, he was on the receiving end of someone's ire. He preferred to see people react to something he'd created over involving him in their socializing.

Still, there were times when Loki was honestly tired of being ignored, and after being awaked so early in the morning, Loki was more than a little upset by the fact that after all of this – Thor was only mildly acknowledging his presence. It was late, he was tired, and he really did want to go to sleep. Then again, a part of him that must have been his conscious started to argue for the opposite immediately:

Was he this upset about Thor's behavior because he was happy to be in the same room with him? Or was he upset because he was _really_ upset? Was this _another _moment where happiness should have existed, but was denied him?

He sighed miserably and reached for his own mug. The chocolate inside of it had been a wild idea inspired by Thor in a rare moment of creativity. He'd found that he'd truly enjoyed the drink, and that he was pleased with its soothing effects. The balancing act between enjoyment, amusement, and true happiness was a middle ground that he was desperately trying to walk properly. He focused on things that made him upset, if only for the chance to enjoy something that would not truly take away the bitterness inside of him. It helped, _somewhat_.

The irritation that he was constantly trying to feel was dwarfed by imagined annoyance and anger at times, and he had difficulty trying to stabilize that middle ground mid conversation. It was why he was starting to just abandon himself from all civilization.

This was the first time in nearly a month he'd even left his rooms. Thor visited him every day, without fail. Frigga came occasionally – Odin not at all. Aside from servants who delivered him meals, he isolated himself from everyone. If he thought the abandonment would make him happy – he knew he was wrong.

He couldn't ever _be _happy. The moment he'd kept himself alone, the longing and desire to have someone to talk to came out full force. When someone visited him, it sharply inversed to wondering why _this _person came, and not some other. That soon turned into, why hadn't that person come sooner? The anger and frustration were impossible to deny. They grew with everything.

His books had begun to bore him to the point of insanity. He had priceless tomes that eight hundred years of thieving and collecting had granted him, and yet not one of them interested him. He'd read them all, every dwarf book to every elf book, every book on Hel, and every book on magic…they'd been read and reread so many times they were boring to even contemplate.

The bed was uncomfortable, the lights were too harsh, the coloring on the walls were too simple, the fringe was too gaudy. Nothing was right about anything, and the more he tried to change it – the more the imperfections shone.

When he interacted with others, he at least was able to take his irritation out on them. But now that he _knew _the reason for his dissatisfaction was magic, he'd been loath to speak to them. It would just cause more harm than good, and he couldn't tolerate that. Not in the slightest.

He ran a weary hand over his features. Right now, despite how the day before he'd been longing for a chance to spend time with Thor outside of his rooms, he was unsurprisingly agitated at their destination, the timing, the ignorance, and the loud booming voice that was surrounding him. He wanted to go back to sleep, but he smiled at that. Sleep wouldn't make him at ease; it would just prolong the inevitable suffering of all of this.

"Brother!" Loki turned his gaze towards Thor, wondering what the great oaf was on to now. "There is tell of wild boar in the fields behind the city! We should hunt it!" Loki blinked at that, fury at the idea starting to build in him. He shook his head, and tried to shake the emotion away. Hatred towards Surtr started to build within him and he focused on that rage for a moment in order to realign his priorities.

The hunt would be _amusing_, but it wouldn't take away from his overall anger and dissatisfaction with life. With that mind rocketing around his head, the truthful answer became far easier to find.

"Sure." He said with some difficulty. A new wave of disproportionate annoyances started to mount inside of him and he rubbed at his head in frustration. With the knowledge of why he was never at ease with anything, came brain-burning headaches as he tried to analyze each pro and con to anything he was doing. The headache was a good and bad thing.

It enhanced his overall misery to allow him to enjoy things more, but it still made him overly miserable in all things. The entertainment faded somewhat when he couldn't actually concentrate on what he was doing due to the pain in his head. Nothing ever settled and was at ease. One day…he would be free of this curse. It was just a matter of proper planning.

Thor was whooping with delight and was requesting food to be prepared for their journey. He was going off on what weapons they would bring, what materials they would collect and how they would go about the hunt. Loki was only half listening – his input, as always, was lacking the knowledge around such things. He had never engaged in hunts in the past, at least not to the extent that Thor had. He knew that he'd only been asked to ease Thor's mind around the obvious terror he still felt towards the nightmare, and he didn't want to let Loki out of his sight yet.

Loki shrugged off the aggravation at that one. If there was one good thing about Thor, is that his very presence gave him an oversensitive reaction towards annoyance and frustration. It made it easier to tolerate him and enjoy his company – he was already feeling angry, meaning he could find some amusement in their activities together. He had a much harder time with their mother.

The woman was filled with love and compassion and it was so easy to manipulate her, to make her sad, to fill her with grief. Loki found himself never _truly _enjoying time with his mother if only because she tried to hard. Thor never had to try, he simply _was_.

And so it was okay for him to go forth and go on the hunt with Thor. He had to do so. If he spent one more day in that room…he'd go insane.

He travelled with Thor down to the stables, and the familiar burn of hatred that coursed through him every time he stepped inside this place coursed over him. He forced himself to remember a time before Muspelheim. A time where he had approached his first-born and had gently loved him for everything he was worth. A time where he had known that Sleipnir was happy and that that was all that mattered. Funny, how much that statement meant to one who was incapable of happiness.

While Thor prepared his own horse, his goats a bit too obvious during a hunt, Loki quietly approached Sleipnir. The god horse looked at him warily, an effect of hundreds of years of watching temper tantrums that he had never truly understood. Loki felt guilt course through him, and he focused on that emotion as he slowly approached his dear boy.

He lifted a hand solemnly to the horse's muzzle, and felt pain course through him as the horse _warily _approached. He was not at all certain of how to handle Loki, and the stand offish _fear_ tugged at the father's heart. Loki looked his boy over and felt the beginnings of pride stir in him. The horse was magnificent. And he told him so.

Immediately, Sleipnir touched his muzzle towards Loki's outstretched fingers and Loki felt anger course through him at how long it took the boy to approach. He bit it down, focusing instead on the pride that he had towards this beautiful animal. _His _creation. Words spilled from his mouth, speaking on and on about how handsome Sleipnir was, how sweet he was, how truly precious he was, and how marvelous he was.

Sleipnir liked the game, the touching, the gentle tone his father was using. He pressed harder against his father's hands – urging him to pet him harder and more insistently. Loki complied, ignoring all of the irritation growing him and focusing instead on the deep love he had for all of his children. "Beautiful…handsome…charming…do you have a mare that catches your eye, little love?"

Thor watched in the darkness, not saying a word at all, but simply observing. He had known how hard it was for Loki to do or say anything lately. It had been a chore; Loki was always so sharp with his words. He always knew what to say, and how to say it. Yet he said things because of emotions that were generally manipulated and false.

Being manipulated was something that Loki couldn't stand for a moment. The fact that Surtr still had that over him – fried his brains more than any other. Right now, was proof enough of how Loki was desperate to reform and get back on track with the things around him. Sleipnir practically melted under his father's hands.

"Why don't you take him with us, brother? Surely it would be good for him to run some. It has been so long since Father has." Anger coursed through Loki at that, and this time he was certain it was true anger and not anger in the place of happiness.

Odin had sworn to care for his son, to treat him properly. To not ride the boy was a disservice to his magnitude. Sleipnir wanted to run, he deserved to as well. Loki's hands tightened on the horse's coat, and finally he managed three deep breaths.

"What do you say, son, fancy a ride?" He asked cautiously. He hadn't ridden him in years. It had been far too long…well before the Jotunheim disaster, and Loki didn't even truly know the reasons for it. He had never felt comfortable using his child as a mount. He would walk with the youth, but never actually ride him. This…was different for both of them.

Sleipnir whinnied slightly and pushed Loki away from him. Hurt cascaded through the god's chest, but it didn't last. Sleipnir had twisted his head around and had gummed the latch of the stall between his lips and had tugged it roughly. The latch came free, and within moments the horse had opened the door and freed himself. Loki burst into laughter, seeing his proud, and clearly intelligent son, acting as such was delightful.

The second the wisps of amusement began to shift into true happiness, his mood soured quickly enough, he grit his teeth and tried to hold onto the feeling. _This _was happiness, and he longed to reach for it – to grasp it fully and hold it to his chest. It was intangible and gone before he could even try.

Sleipnir had no intentions on letting him think about anything, though, the horse ducked his head and caught Loki's shirt between his teeth. Instantly whipping about he tossed the surprised god onto his back he took off at a mad dash out of the stable before the man could so much as shout.

Thor was after them in a moment, quickly scrambling on top of his own horse, he spurred it into response and they shot after Sleipnir. There was no hope they could catch the galloping lord of horses, but they could at least follow them – should Loki fall.

Loki was a skilled rider, though, and he caught his balance on the galloping beast and clung to his son's mane with a tight grip. They floated across the grass, across the acres of land that just led to nothingness, up the mountains, and down to the streams. Joy filled Loki's heart and he felt the momentary bliss vanish within moments of achieving it. For only seconds later – he was filled with panic.

They were going to fast, they were going to crash, he was going to fall off, he was going to – _shut up and stop fretting! _Loki shook his head. He couldn't believe that this was how horrible he'd been. Before he'd realized his emotions were being played with by a curse – he'd honestly allowed himself to fret over such things. It was silly to be afraid of anything and everything like this.

That was, of course, until beautiful and proud Sleipnir found the wild boar. He damn near rode right into it, and the horse skidded to a sliding stop, turning at the same instant. Loki went flying, incapable of holding his seat with such a rough direction change. He hurtled straight into the boar, and barely had time to catch himself and jolt a wisp of magic around him before he crashed into the side of the beast.

He arched over and upwards, flipping over the creature and landing safely on the other side of it. The boar whipped its angry head about and howled at him in pure anger. He stared at it, calculating and curious. Sleipnir was at his side in an instant, body strong and defensive.

Loki had half a mind to smile – his son thought to protect him, like he was a weak child that was powerless to do anything. He laughed at the idea, even as annoyance at being babied bubbled in him.

Raising his hands towards the boar he made a quick spell and it's neck snapped in two. It was dead before it even began to charge. Sleipnir jumped back, startled, looking between Loki and the boar as though he'd done something particularly absurd. Loki just laughed at the expression on his son's face.

"Thor's boar is dead, and I believe we still had a ride to continue, if you're still willing?" He offered lightly, and the horse nodded. It looked prepared to throw him again, but Loki held up a hand. "Thank you, son, but I'm quite capable of doing so on my own." He said lightly. The throw had been more than a little surprising the first time, and fake or not – Loki hadn't liked it.

He was prepared to use his magic to help him levitate onto Sleipnir's back, when Odin appeared out of nowhere – his face set with agitation and annoyance. Loki jumped at the sight of his adoptive father's sudden presence. He opened his mouth to say something, but found that he truly had no idea what it was that he was supposed to say to the All Father. Sleipnir was excited to see his grandfather, and plodded over to greet him.

For the first time, Odin did not greet his horse in turn; he had his eyes only on Loki. His young son shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, he bit his lip in anxiety, and he appeared more than a little uncomfortable. "A servant informed me that you had been seen leaving the city." Odin started, and Loki stared up at him with a sour expression. "Your confinement was to be all consuming."

"I had a chaperone." Loki growled, hand waving towards Thor who was slowly riding up to meet them.

"Would you rather be bound in place, if you think me too lenient?" Odin hissed, and all the color drained from Loki's face. A dark memory coursed through his brain and he shook his head mutely. "Sleipnir is not some ass to be ridden by a fool for his pleasure-"

"No. He is a son who has never wondered where he'd come from, and yet is still imprisoned despite his valor." Loki snapped back, fists clenched at his side.

"Father-" Thor started, slowly beginning to dismount as he looked at his family.

"Silence, boy! Let him speak if he wishes it." Temptation tugged on Loki's lips, but so did the reminder of the muzzle. It had not always remained steel, and Odin's original punishment had been far harsher than simple imprisonment. The tingles of scarred flesh on his lips drew Loki's memory towards the feeling of dwarven thread sewing his mouth shut. The physical pain that had followed had been nothing compared to the humiliation of the stitch. Thankfully, it hadn't lasted long. Frigg had put an end to it and Thor had backed her. Loki was to remain in the castle at all times, and he was not allowed to leave unless he was being "properly supervised." Apparently Thor did not count in that regard.

"Funnily enough..." Loki murmured as he glared hard at his father. "I have nothing to say." Then, he waved his hand slightly, and without so much as a goodbye to Sleipnir or an acknowledgement to Thor – he disappeared without a trace.

Sleipnir let out a loud cry of dismay at his father's disappearance, even going so far as to move to where Loki once was and sniff around as though he could track where he went. He whipped around to look at Odin, and the All Father had the good grace to look slightly guilty. Sleipnir didn't seem to care, he brayed loudly in the god king's face, before turning and galloping away, bucking and rearing in anger the whole while. It was the horse equivalent to a temper tantrum. The furious expression on Thor's face wasn't much better.

"Father! Whatever did you say that for? He was-"

"You seem to forget all that he has done in the past so easily, Thor." Odin snapped. "Or do the thousands of people who lay dead in Midgard mean nothing to you?"

"They mean much, father, but he is trying for redemption." Odin shook his head sadly.

"He will never achieve it, not so long as that curse hangs above him. All he cares about is his next plan, his next scheme - and you are far too willing to encourage him."

"He has caused no harm here, he was simply out riding with me-"

"You were a league away! You could hardly follow him with your eyes. You allowed him to ride the fastest horse in all the realms and you thought you could watch him?"

"He was not causing any harm!"

"Sleipnir can leap dimensions, he can travel to all the realms, he is the only being that can transport himself to Hel and you gave _that _horse to your brother to ride? Did it never occur to you that at any moment he could have left and never returned? Did it ever occur to you that Sleipnir would have helped him do it? There are _reasons _why it is impermissible to ride the king's horse, and did you not think of _that _before you delivered him to your trickster?"

"My brother, you mean." Thor corrected with a glare. Odin didn't bother to amend the statement. He just locked his gaze with Thor.

"There is no excuse to allow Loki access to that much power. There is no reason at all that he should be allowed to leave."

"There's always reasons...always events that could come up and change everything."

"No, Thor. There are not." Odin shook his head sadly. "And the fact that you cannot see it only goes to show how far you're willing to accept his lying ways. His lips were better sewn closed."

"Father..." There was a warning in Thor's voice and the All Father raised his hand.

"I will not do it, again...but there _were _reasons for doing so in the first place. You watch him, Thor, since you seem to be the only one willing to do so. You watch him, and you do _not _allow him to leave this realm for any reason."

"Of course, father, we never had any intention to. It was simply a ride." Odin rolled his eyes. That, he heavily doubted. Thor, though, was not impressed with his father's disturbance of the day. He handed the reins to the god-king, and he withdrew Mjolnir from where he held it. "You may ride my horse back to the castle, I will fly. I suddenly have lost the desire to ride anywhere." He spun the hammer about, and shot into the air.

Nobody cared at all about the boar that still lay dead on the ground.

Spell or not, it seemed nothing was willing to help Loki ease the hurt that continued to grow in his chest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Windstar: **Thank you very much to my reviewers, I appreciate you taking the time to write to me. I really enjoy hearing all of your comments and concerns. Responses will be out shortly to anyone who logged in. This chapter mentions a very complex topic in the history of Loki in both the comics and mythos. That being said, it's just an opener - there will be more explanation in the future. If you're confused, don't worry - it'll all get explained soon enough. **  
**

**Disclaimer: **Please see the first chapter.

**Chapter:**

Loki was furious. Worse than furious, he was steaming with hatred. He paced back and forth in his room like a rabid dog attempting to find something to bite. He knew that he couldn't do something to Odin, that was beyond him. But at the moment, Loki's memories of his adoptive father were dark and dangerous and he couldn't think of anything except for plotting his revenge. There was so much to be angry at Odin for. From how he treated his children, to how his punishments had always gone wrong. For someone who was all knowing, he certainly had a way of making mistakes whenever it came to Loki, and the god of mischief was tired of it.

Odin had been strangely merciful lately, particularly in allowing Frigg and Thor to talk him out of the sutures that had been more humiliating than anything else. The idea wasn't necessarily to hurt Loki or make him think about what he'd done, so much as have him once again be the bunt of every joke and be immersed in the familiar and bullying crowd of Asgard. Frigg and Thor both pointed out that all it was doing was making him more angry and more willing to rebel again in the future, and he was doing nothing for Loki's tolerance and patience. Odin had acquiesced and the sutures had been removed.

The memory of what he'd done - had not. Far too many people snickered about the idea and had made one too many crude jokes about sewing Loki's mouth closed one too many times. It was another reason why Loki generally stayed away from the populace of Asgard. They didn't like him, and he wasn't overly fond of them either. Sif and the Warriors Three were people he made a strict point to avoid at all costs. They tended to lead the jeering, and Loki didn't necessarily blame them. It didn't make him feel bad about increasing the alcohol level in their mugs one evening so that they all became roaring drunk in less than two glasses and humiliated themselves in front of the whole court.

Thor had shot him a warning look that night, but Loki had just blinked at him innocently. Neither had spoken about it again. Loki had told his brother long ago that he could fight his own battles and that he didn't need Thor's help in defending himself. Thor had taken nearly three hundred years to get that into his head, but now he had a blissfully passive roll in Loki's protection. If Loki was being slighted in some way, he stood back (generally) and allowed Loki to handle the situation how he saw fit. Thor knew full well what his friends had been saying about his brother, but he'd done as Loki'd asked - he had said nothing and allowed Loki to punish them.

In the past, Thor had laughed at the sight of Loki using his magic on people who slighted them. The day of his supposed coronation had led to a usual teasing match before the ceremony. Thor had made a comment about how some people fought and others just did tricks, and Loki had rolled his eyes at the familiar jab. A servant had overheard the comment and laughed at it, and _that _was _not_ okay. He'd conjured snakes to appear on the man's plate, startling him into dropping it. Thor had just chuckled at the site and berated him for the loss of his wine. But that's how it had always been. Thor was allowed to tease Loki, and he got away relatively harmless in the scenario. However, anyone else would be punished dearly. Sif and the Warriors Three were no exception.

But there was no way to punish Odin. He'd slighted Loki thousands of times, but there was no way that he could take his revenge on the king of the gods. And truth be told, the reprimand wasn't as bad as it could have been. Odin had usually been a strict tyrant in the past, but now all he'd said now was that Loki was to be under house arrest. He could not leave Asgard at all, and he could only leave the city to enter the suburbs and rural grounds when someone was with him. Loki hadn't known what to say about that, when he'd first heard of the change in his punishment because it hadn't made much sense.

For much smaller problems in the past he had been tortured brutally and painfully, but for starting a war on Midgard and everything that had happened just a year before that…there was nothing except for a temporarily humiliating situation and a lax guard with angry expressions from everyone.

Thor had said something about Odin wanting to make up for the sins of the past, but Loki had had enough. He honestly didn't care what his father, _adoptive_ father, did. He just wanted the man to be consistent. Either he was ambivalent, or threatening…but he wanted him to decide which one to be and to just _do it_.

Right now, after everything that had happened lately, Loki was simply desperate to do anything that could gain his freedom. He was tired of living in this horrible world where his mind was incapable of giving him the slightest bit of freedom and joy. He wished for one moment of true happiness in the world, but everything was denied to him.

Storming towards his books he pulled out all of the ones that contained anything to do with Surtr, and he set to work. He'd been reading for months about anything that could right his emotions. Magic had gotten him into this mess, and magic could get him out. He was more than a little powerful- he was _enormously _powerful. Surtr's magic shouldn't have been affecting him as it was.

But for months all he'd been able to find were spells on healing the soul: on fixing damages to it, on reclaiming a lost soul, on summoning a soul. There had been nothing that came to dispelling a fire-giant's hold on his soul and mind's emotional framework. He had searched every known way to dispel something, but every answer led to his death, and he was not done living yet – not after he had discovered a way to fix his misery. Loki took a deep breath and focused fully on the history of Surtr. If he could not break the spell by means of magic…than perhaps Thor was right. Perhaps he should make a deal with the only person who could help him.

Surtr claimed to be older than the gods, and perhaps that was true. Perhaps he was older. It didn't matter to Loki, with age came secrets…and he would find the way to break Surtr's spirit if he had to. There had to be a way to do it, even if he really did have to die in the process…at least he'd get what he wanted in the end.

* * *

_The wells of Alfheim were beautiful. As Loki walked through the trees and the forests there, the smell of wet grass and simple flowers wafted into his nose. He was clearly impressed. The simplicity and the general pleasure of this place simply grew from the ground. The Elves were a magical and gentle people. They had no desire for war or for vengeance, and so they purposefully kept to themselves. The only thing they did do, that was different from other realms, was pay homage to the gods of Asgard. They respected the Asgardians just as the Asgardians appreciated the elves. It was a symbiotic relationship, and all was well. _

_Loki had no need to fear as he walked through Alfheim. He passed many elves on his way to the center of their greatest courtyard. He was moving slow, though, and his features were a bit pale. He looked...tired, and worn out. No one else seemed to notice his exhaustion though. They tipped their head to him, and he politely responded in kind. They had no need to speak, for the elves were telepathic and could read his motivations quite clear. _

_He approached the courtyard in peace, and he knelt before their great pond of virtue. It was beautiful, and truly shimmering with power and love. He allowed himself to reach forwards and coup a palmful of the liquid. He brought the water to his lips and he sipped from it. _

_The pond was a well of knowledge, one that was focused on vitality and growth. He felt energized as he sipped the drink, and when he raised his eyes, he could see a contingent of elves standing before him. They were watching, waiting, as though determining if, just this once, they should fight a god of Asgard. _

"_You have come a long way from home, Asgardian." Loki smiled at the familiar greeting. It was customary for any member of a foreign realm to say such to one of his people. It was a greeting, and a warning all in one. Odin had contrived it when he had begun to travel the lands. He wanted all to acknowledge their power, while also forcing the gods to acknowledge the responsibility that came with that power. _

_Loki tipped his head at the words. "I have indeed, good people of Alfheim." He did not come to fight. He came for information. _

"_Tell me, son of Odin, what has brought you this far." _

"_You know of what I seek." He stated simply, and the elf leader nodded to him. She approached him swiftly and with floating steps. She was beautiful, and Loki knew that had he the capacity for love and kindness, he would truly be at peace in this realm. It was impossible, however, and so he simply sat there, and waited for her to give him hope. _

"_The spell that is placed upon you is not one that I can break."_

"_Why not?" _

"_It is tied to your soul, should it break – your soul would leave your body. You would die." _

"_Would my body die, or just my soul?" The thought was curious and he pondered it as she spoke. _

"_Without a soul, the body will die. However, this death would not be a clean death. There would be no Valhalla for you, you would go to Hel, and never achieve glory." Loki tilted his head in curiosity, and he thought deeply for a long while. The elves regarded him curiously, but he didn't mind that. They were a curious folk, and he was more than used to their ways. _

_The pretty leader of the elves shifted closer. The near see-through gown that adorned her flawless body parted somewhat, and he gave a wry smile towards her flesh. "Would it be possible to break the spell, at all? If you simply wanted to kill me, could you still break the spell?" She looked thoughtful for a moment. Two perfectly symmetrical arms reached out and her hands touched his face._

_He let his eyes slip closed as the power of her magic coursed over him. She was diagnosing the spell; the familiar tendrils of inspection flooded his skin and his veins. He let out a long breath of air. He felt at peace like this. It was hard to not simply fall asleep in their touch, but he knew that that wasn't wise. Elves captured their food like this, lulling their prey into a false sense of security…and then _bam!

_When the magic faded from her hands, his eyes opened. "Yes. I could break this spell, but it will cost your life." He nodded his head. He took her hand in his and he kissed it. _

"_Then please, by all means, _break it_." She pulled back sharply, eyes wide with surprise. _

"_You wish to die?" _

"_I have nothing to live for." He confirmed lightly. _

"_Your wife, children-"_

"_I haven't seen or spoken to Sigyn in over five years, and our children are gone. My children are all gone from me…I do not wish to live a life without them." Her face turned sad. _

"_You really wish to die this much?"_

"_Yes. At least if I die here and now, I shall be able to see my daughter again, and watch her grow even more." The elf's eyes turned downwards in sorrow. The other elves around her looked even more teary at the words he spoke. "Please, break this spell." She took his hand, and led him to the water. He walked with her, feeling the purification of the water as it tingled against his flesh. _

_The water revealed the truth of all things, and he watched curiously as his skin was neither blue nor white, but instead a kind of silver – an in between that he found most interesting. Like Hela, he was simply a creature of the middle ground. He was neither giant, nor god, and now he appeared as both. His own reflection now showed one red eye – one green. _

_He lifted his gaze to meet the elf's, and she took both of his hands now. She pressed them to her lips, and his flesh tingled. Then, she spoke the gentle and wisping magic of the elves. He smiled as his body started to hum and his senses sharpened. He felt the sharp stab of power as it pierced his heart. His eyes widened slightly, and then he felt his hands get released. His legs lost their ability to stand and suddenly he was falling backwards in the water. _

_He splashed and tipped underneath it all, his eyes staring up ahead of him as he was submerged entirely. No air could reach his lungs, but he didn't feel any panic. Instead, he had a memory of when he first held his little girl in his arms. To him, she was the most beautiful child he had ever seen in his life. She was gorgeous, and a sharp thrill of _happiness _coursed through him. It filled his body completely, and tears sprang to his eyes. _

_At the exact same moment – Loki Laufeyson died._

* * *

Thor slammed the doors open to Loki's room, startling the younger god as he was still reading about Surtr. The god of thunder's face was drawn with sadness, and Loki only had to glance at him briefly before he rolled his own eyes. "Oh good grief, did I die again, _baby _brother?" The blonde oaf moved towards him and touched his shoulder, releasing a sigh of relief when he felt it solidly under his palm. "You do realize there are ways to create corporeal images, if I chose to do so."

"None that you could maintain while dead." Thor stated firmly.

"True, although the after images would not exist if I was dead either. You saw what happened on the Bifrost when you struck me down. Although, truly, you struck us _all _at the same time."

"Why do you play that silly game?"

"With the after images? Perhaps because everyone falls for it so nicely." Loki shrugged and made to stand. He placed his book down that he was reading and started to make his way towards the "throne." Thor smiled when he watched the younger god clamber up onto it ungracefully, pulling his sable blanket over him in the process.

"Why do you never sleep on the bed?" Thor asked, honestly curious.

"Perhaps because I do not care for the bed." Loki responded evenly. It had been years since he'd last used that bed. The last time had been when Sigyn had lain with him.

His wife lay in his arms all night, weeping hysterically over the loss of their sons. The poison that had fallen on Loki's face had been too much for him to bear and even then he maintained the scars of that event. Loki had been damn near unconscious when the whole thing had started, but it hadn't helped. Nothing had helped until Thor had returned from a battle somewhere and had heard what had happened. Thor had freed him, but the knowledge of what had transpired there had nearly sent him over the edge.

Loki had always been a troublemaker, and he'd always instigated where he didn't belong. He had always been capable of flyting with the best of them and he had always won too. So why anyone had bothered to take it personally when he had insulted them at dinner one evening was beyond Thor's comprehension. Why Odin had seen fit to turn one of Loki's son into a beast and have it attack the other, kill him, and then use the dead child's intestines to bind Loki to a stone – was absolutely beyond anything that Thor _could _understand.

The cause produced the desired effect. Loki never spoke out of turn, he never engaged in flyting, and he always did as he was told. It was only with Thor did he bother to do anything rebellious. The only rebellion he'd had since that moment was the mess with Jotunheim, and even that seemed more misguided with relatively good intentions turned bad.

Later, Odin admitted to Thor that he had not meant for Loki's children to suffer as they did. That after Narfi's death, they had promptly buried the child with all the respects of a prince of Asgard. Loki was still bound to that stone, but everyone knew that once he regained consciousness from the spell that had made him senseless – he would break free. Odin had told Thor then, that no one truly knew where the idea to bind Loki with Narfi's intestines had come from. Odin couldn't recall who suggested it first, or why it had been done, but somewhere they had crossed the line from punishment into cruelty and torture. The young prince's tomb was desecrated, his body disemboweled, and the magic inside Narfi's cells reacted against the magic of it's father – Loki was bound and he could not escape.

When Thor had released Loki in a fit of rage, refusing to believe what had happened, Odin had been stunned as well. It was as if they had all been swayed by some cunning voice, and had it not been Loki they were punishing – they would have believed it to be his fault for the idea to do so. It hadn't mattered, neither son ever forgave Odin for what he'd done, and neither ever would.

After Loki had been reinstated in the palace, subdued, broken, and extremely and uncomfortably lost, he had held his wife to his chest and allowed her to mourn for the first time since their children were lost to them. She cried for hours, for days even, and he said nothing as he held her.

Finally, he'd pressed a hand to her forehead and whispered words of forgetfulness. The woman had passed out, and he had carried her to his brother. "Take her, Thor, return her to her family and tell them that she does not remember me or her time in the palace. Nothing since the moment she heard my name will remain in her mind. Have her cared for…but do not leave her here to suffer." Thor had sadly taken his sister-in-law in his arms and he had done as he was told.

The next day when the people of Asgard were struggling to figure out where Sigyn went, it was announced far and wide that Sigyn had returned to the Vanir and that she would no longer live with the Aesir, everyone thought it was for the best. Loki had never again slept in the bed he'd made with her. Just as how he never again stepped foot across the conjoining doors that led to Narfi and Vali's bedroom…it was still exactly as the children had left it and he didn't want to see it, no matter what.

"You know, I hear about her occasionally. Sif visits-" Loki turned sharply and glared at Thor with more anger and hatred than Thor had believed him capable of.

"I do not want to hear about her, and I never will. I will allow you to march into my room whenever you damn well please, and drag me out wherever you wish me to go, but you will _never _mention her."

"You...never wish to see her again?" Thor asked softly, and Loki grit his teeth.

"Nothing short of having our sons returned to us would make me even _consider_ going to see her again. Until such a time, I do not want to talk about her. Are we understood?" He asked shortly, and Thor nodded his head.

"Yes brother, of course." Taking a deep breath, Loki turned on his side and looked away from his adoptive brother. "It was elves, you know."

"What was elves?" Sighing in exasperation, Loki scowled and glared back at Thor.

"What killed you this time. It was elves. You went to them and asked them to break the spell. It killed you. You went to Hel."

"You really must find a better way to spend your evenings than to dream of my impending doom."

"Loki…you're not going to do anything foolish are you?" Loki just laughed at that.

"Now brother, you must know by now that if I'm going to do _anything _at all, it's going to be vastly intelligent and far beyond your reasoning capabilities."

"I'm sure…but you're not, right? Going to do something that makes me worry?" Loki turned on his side, and looked straight into Thor's eyes, he smiled broadly – face turning nearly sinister in its mischievousness.

"Thor, I'm going to do something very intelligent, and it's bound to make you worry. What else have I to live for?" Thor's stomach dropped out and he stared wide-eyed at his brother, hardly believing what he was hearing. Then the god waved his hand, and all of the lamps in the room went dark, leaving Thor blind as he stumbled across the room and tried to find his way to the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**Windstar: **Thank you so much to my fantastic reviewers. If you're not trying to figure out how to break Loki's curse, than you're certainly finding interest in the mythology that I'm playing with. Hearing your excitement makes my day and it just makes posting this that much more special. Thank you once again, and I hope that this chapter exceeds your expectations. There's going to be a lot of mythology thrown at you in this one, if it gets too complicated or overloaded, let me know.

Also, as in the first story, there is going to be use of this word: **Vörðr** - (pronounced vur-thur). Once again, it refers to: a wraith like spirit that is a shadow of the soul. Occasionally this spirit can appear while you are still alive, but it is more common after death. The Old Norse equivalent to a ghost. Literally translates to "guard."

**Disclaimer: **Please see the first chapter.

**Chapter:**

Many people believed that Vali died that day, after he'd torn Narfi to shreds and let his brother's intestines be used for chains on their father. Gods and goddesses alike all thought that the young son of Loki had been killed as well. The truth was far less satisfying. Driven mad by his actions towards his brother, the newly transformed child roamed the earth baying at the moon and begging for forgiveness he would never achieve.

Narfi's Vörðr did what Loki had threatened Thor his would do so many years ago. It haunted Vali every night and day. Vali could go nowhere without being yelled at by his crying brother that asked him why over and over again. Vörðr were not the most intelligent things, and they were only a specter, a shade of the original life form. Narfi was a child when he had been killed and so the mental capacity of his Vörðr was lessened than a full grown adult. Vali would never be free from his madness; he would always be left crying and weeping for his loss, and Narfi's spirit form would never let him forget his wrong doings.

Loki was one of the few beings in the nine realms who could successfully track and locate his wolf like son without pause or dilemma. The form that Odin cursed Vali to take was a throwback to Fenrir, and Loki had never hated anyone more than his father after he'd learned of what had happened to his children.

Sleipnir had been a gift. Loki had not known what to do with his first born, and he had anxiously paced the fields around the city until he finally decided that Sleipnir would do well with other horses and with a kind master. Loki had never _truly _felt bad about bringing Sleipnir to the castle.

Fenrir, Jorgummund, and Hela were all different. When Loki had first brought Fenrir home – everyone had thought he was a pet. He'd patiently tried explaining the situation, but no one really wanted to listen. Odin regarded him with extreme embarrassment, and Frigg only partially understood.

Thor thought it was a great deal of fun, and enjoyed spending his time playing with the young pup. When Jorgummund came, the wolf and the great serpent entertained themselves. But Hela was the one that truly broke the camel's proverbial back. The others were animals, creatures – like Sleipnir. They could be ignored and considered wild.

Hela…Hela looked like a child, but one half of her was rotting and dead and the other half was alive and well. It was too much for them to comprehend. They argued adamantly for Loki to remove his children from the court, and Loki argued adamantly on keeping them there.

It was many years of fierce shouting and yelling before finally the children themselves requested to leave. They had been tortured and bullied and humiliated for far too long to wish to stay. Loki had looked at his children and been torn. He never had wanted them to go anywhere, but they truly were unhappy at court. So they all settled on a middle ground. The children wouldn't associate with court and they'd be free to do whatever they wanted to do around Asgard - without ever needing to engage contact with anyone else. Everyone won. It was around this point in time, when Sigyn bore Vali…and soon Narfi after that. Two perfect Asgardian children. They were normal, and Loki gave a breath of relief as he looked them over at first.

The four older siblings all adored their young brothers, but what broke Loki's heart the most, was when they continued to state in glee that the boys would not be tormented as they were. They were whole and complete and there was nothing 'wrong' with them.

But good things never lasted. Despite trying so hard to keep the balancing act of having his family safe and happy, and still maintaining some form of life in court - things still went wrong. Loki had returned home one evening, to find Hela crying hysterically in her room – Sigyn trying desperately to calm her. His daughter, now a woman, was bleeding badly- the dead side of her looking like someone had torn into her flesh and ripped it apart, while the living side was cut and bruised. Fenrir had been stabbed with a sword, and someone had stomped and slashed repeatedly on Jorgummund to the point where the snake's spine was disrupted in several parts and whole chunks of flesh and scales were missing.

It had taken him four hours to calm them all and heal them with all the magic he possessed. He was drawn and exhausted from the effort, but his mind was still sharp and calculating. He was _infuriated_. His children had finally been able to tell him what had happened. They had been enjoying the summer sun in the field outside the castle with Sleipnir. Their older brother had been carrying Hela happily as the others ran (slithered) and tussled with one another.

Hela loved Sleipnir, and he loved her in turn. The eldest of the group always tended to the girl, who would hug his great legs and pet him as best as she could. She could never walk or run as easily as a 'norma' child, and so Sleipnir made it easy for her. He freely offered to take here wherever she pleased. She was the apple of everyone's eye, and she laughed with such delight that it was almost easy to forget that physically – half of her was skeletal and deformed.

Almost.

Some of the Asgardians had decided to go out for a hunt that day, and they came across the group in the yard. They had taken to tormenting them, shouting and yelling at them – calling them monsters and demons. One of them, a rather handsome young man that Hela had been fond, of had started to say such cruel things to her that she'd begun to cry, and Sleipnir saw that enough was enough. He'd started to head back to the castle, when someone had trodden their horse clear over Jorgummund's body. The snake had hissed in pain and anger, and Fenrir had attacked.

He'd killed the mount that the god was riding, and was immediately stabbed for his efforts. Soon, horses were everywhere and a full-scale battle was waging. Hela had fallen from Sleipnir's back as the horse tried to stop the scuffle, and she'd been trampled by one of the god's steeds. Nearly fifteen minutes had passed before everyone had cleared out. Heimdal had stepped in, after seeing the catastrophe from his spot on the bridge.

He'd ordered the ruffians apprehended, but they had all scattered as soon as they saw trouble coming. Heimdal grudgingly brought all of Loki's children back to the castle –only Sleipnir stayed behind in the stables despite clearly wishing to travel indoors with his siblings.

Loki's anger reached a breaking point, and he stormed from the bedroom. Sigyn was left to care for her stepchildren all of whom were now convinced that their father was angry with them. She tried to tell them that that wasn't the case, but all three were too upset to listen. Fenrir wanted blood, Jorgummund wanted peace, and Hela just wished for someone to treat her normally. None of those were easily achieved.

Loki, for his part, had marched into the dinner. He'd been prepared to simply pull Odin aside and speak to him privately, but then someone had made a comment about his children and the All Father had laughed along with it. Loki had seen red. He's temper reached a point where it could no longer be denied and he had proceeded to say anything and everything.

He'd wanted to see them all torn to shreds; he wanted them to suffer. Years of secrets that he had been keeping inside of himself poured out. He revealed them all. Every bad thing that every person had done in their lives. He spoke about Volstagg, and Fandral, and Hogun, and Sif, he spoke about Tyr, and Baldor, and Freya, he spoke about each and every one of them. He even shared secrets that Odin and Frigg had given him, and it was at that point that Odin finally started to show his fury.

Thor strode in just then, and Odin demanded that he get a handle on his brother. Thor had just arrived from the stables where Sleipnir had been angrily attacking anyone who came near him. It had taken him this long just to calm the horse, and even longer to drag the story about what had happened out of everyone. When he finally managed to make it to the dinner, it had been after first checking on his niece and nephews and hearing Sigyn whisper where Loki had gone.

"Brother…you cannot continue, I understand your anger but you are doing this wrong." Thor had slowly managed to coax his brother into leaving, but Loki had done enough damage. He'd shared secrets that no one was meant to hear, and he had needed to be punished.

Turning Vali into a wolf had been Odin's way of illegitimating the potential throne claim from Loki's eldest "normal" child. No one had anticipated that doing so had stripped Vali of all his memories and given him only the instinct to attack. He hadn't eaten anything since his father had been dragged from their family by an armed guard, and he had been so hungry by the time Odin had come for him. It had been instinctual – go after the weakest target.

No one had been prepared for the reaction, and they'd all been too late to stop him before Narfi had been killed. Binding Loki to that stone in his son's organs had been the only way to keep him there – Narfi's natural magic counteracting his father's. It was also a reminder that this was what his actions had caused. _This _was what he'd done.

Fenrir was bound in chains shortly thereafter, Jorgummund was thrown into Midgard, and Hela was sent to Helheim where she could never return. The only child of Loki still in Asgard's territory that was "free" was Vali, who roamed the countryside in mourning for the child he had killed. Moments after Narfi's blood soaked into his teeth…Vali's memories returned. Another side effect, Odin just happened to not realize could happen.

But Vali moved predictably, and Loki had been able to find him easily within moments of looking for the boy. Narfi's spirit saw him and immediately went to him, hugging him tightly and saying only "daddy, daddy" over and over again. It was moments like this that had always kept Loki away from Vali…he could not bear to see his son's Vörðr and his other son's torment.

But this needed to be done, and sooner rather than later. Loki approached Vali who lay on the ground, submitting completely to his father. Reaching a slow hand out, he touched his son's matted fur, frowning at the knotted hair and the bloody paws. There were fleas and grubs that were living on his son's misshapen body – eating away at his flesh and killing him slower than his natural blood was healing him. He was suffering badly, and Loki sadly stroked the wolf's hair.

Narfi was clinging to his back, and Loki had one hand around his son's wrists – acknowledging the hold that he was giving him, while at the same time keeping him still. He waved his hand, letting his magic pour through him and passed his fingertips. Vali's injuries dissipated and the vermin were killed instantly. Then, he summoned all the power that was within him, all the power that the casket he still possessed would give him, and he set to work dispelling what he'd always been incapable of in the past.

Narfi was shouting confusion in his ear, he didn't understand what was happening and Loki did not have the time or patience to explain it to his dead and mindless child. Instead, he let the energy within him turn back the folds of the spell Odin had cast years before.

Vali's wolfish body slowly began to mutate, his paws and hindquarters became humanoid and his arched spine straightened. His protruding snout fell back into the face of an Asgardian child. Older now, than he had been when he had the spell cast upon him – Vali was on the cusp of manhood. _Seventeen years old_, Loki's mind helpfully supplied.

Loki reached out and lightly touched his son's skin. He was weary, and he didn't have the energy to do too much more. A light spell – summoning clothing to dress the boy, was all he really could manage at this point. Narfi had fallen silent, staring at his brother's body in wonder.

Vali, for his part, simply stared up at Loki. His dirty face was just as angelic as Loki remembered it being, and he took a deep breath as he focused on the sadness he felt at looking at his child's body. Then, Vali's green eyes turned to look at Narfi, and he let out a rough and tortured cry of mourning. His hands crashed to his face and he wept badly. Loki reached out with a hand and he summoned all the remaining power that he had within him – the last tendrils of magical strength that he possessed.

He sent a wave of his will into the child before him, and like Sigyn before him – Vali's mind was wiped clean. The boy's eyes slipped closed and his body fell limp. Loki slowly reached out, and pulled the boy to his chest. Physical strength had never been his forte, but he was willing this time to handle the burden of his load. Narfi was shouting, accusing him of all kinds of things, but Loki was more than willing to ignore his youngest child's ranting.

Reaching around Vali's still body, Loki heaved him upwards, and began the long and torturous walk back to Asgard. Narfi accompanied them, and Loki sighed as he struggled with his load. He would not drop Vali even if it killed him, but he was weakened and sore and his muscles screamed and ripped in protest.

When he approached the gates of the city, it took what little strength he had left to wrap a spell of concealment around them all. He choked and struggled to breathe as his vision spotted black. Each step sent pain rocketing through him. He didn't care, to him, he deserved it and that was al there was to be said about the topic.

Finally, after three hours of walking – he managed to enter his room. Narfi had fallen silent – his childish eyes stared at everything around them in amazement. Loki didn't have time to consider just what his young son was thinking or doing, instead – he stumbled forwards and placed Vali down on his bed. The boy fell from his arms and lay still on the little used mattress. Loki breathed heavily, and his legs collapsed from underneath him.

He leaned against the bed and shook from exertion. Tears filled his eyes, even as he laughed loudly against the bedding. His body shook and he was in hysterics as he laughed and wept at the same time. He couldn't possibly have been happy, but he _was _filled with both joy and sadness at the same time.

He had broken the All Father's spell on his son, and if he could do that – he could break the spell against his own personage. Surtr wasn't as strong as Odin, and so there had to be a way.

Breaking the All Father's spell had been difficult, but he'd found the way around it. It lay in the basic method to cast in the first place. Odin's magic was clumsier than Loki's, and yet it was extraordinarily powerful. Loki doubted heavily that a lesser god could have accomplished as he had.

But there was always around everything. For every spell, there was a counter-spell…or at the very least a way to exhaust the spell to the point of nothingness. He could do this. He knew he could. He simply had to work out the way…

And rest. His body ached badly, his brain felt like it was about to burst, and his powers were groaning from over use. His skin felt as though thousands of insects were crawling over him, and he was desperate for something to stop the feeling. He looked up at Vali, and then over to Narfi who was staring at him in such confusion. If he physically felt well again, then he wouldn't be able to enjoy them. He wouldn't be able to bask in the glory that was this victory. He smiled slightly. He could deal with the pain and the torment if it meant that for this moment – he could feel the full weight of his accomplishment.

He crawled into the bed beside his son, and then motioned for Narfi to join them. The Vörðr looked at him curiously, but did as he was told. Loki felt his body shout in protest as the specter wrapped his arms around him and pressed his head to his side. The pain was blinding, and every instinct he had was telling him to repel the child off of him. He didn't, though.

He lay there, between his newly returned boy and his dead child, and he closed his eyes. He let sleep wash over him, and he celebrated the only way he could –

With sadness, loneliness, pain, and the knowledge that once his powers returned and the pain stopped – he would never have this opportunity again.

* * *

_Loki stepped away from Sleipnir. His eyes looked over the lands of Helheim and he took a deep breath. Within his palm was his golden staff and he was grateful for its presence. It had been a nightmare trying to get it, and now that he had it – he knew what to do. He knew just how to proceed. He was still weak from his journey, his steps were slow and faltering. He was using all of his strength simply to stay upright, but right now that didn't matter. All that mattered was the plan. _

_He walked slowly through Hel and he waited, within moments the path before him opened wider and he stood before his daughter. Hela was a grown woman now, her body had grown to be voluptuous and wicked. Through her own magic she had taken the parts of her that was rotted and dead and had transmuted them so that the decay was in a different location. _

_Now, the darkness and evil of her form was restricted to her hair – it sprang from her head in all directions looking every bit as menacing and threatening as the decay had appeared when it had taken over half her body. Her eyes remained hidden in shadow, and only the barest bits of white could be seen. But as for her body…it was fleshy and curvy and hidden only slightly modestly by a near see-through gown. _

_She was radiant, and Loki tipped his head in acknowledgement to her. She was a Queen here, and he was merely an adopted Prince of Asgard. Long had it been since Hela had run to his arms and begged to be held. As a Queen she was regal and pious and she held herself with dignity and grace. _

"_My Queen." He said, stressing the 'my,' as he always did. She smiled ever so slightly. Her steps were carefully measured and she approached him with little fear. Her gaze fell to Sleipnir who happily rubbed against her palm as she held it out for him. _

"_You are a long way from home…_father_." She changed the polite greeting, and he fairly burst with laughter at the thought of it. Her wit and mind were as cunning as ever, and her good-natured heart had clearly not been diminished. Hel was not as it had been described in Christian doctrine. Hela's Hel was a place of rest and respect. The dead were well cared for and their spirits cherished. She made a family out of each of them, and her loving nature showed on the landscape. _

_It was well tended to and luminescent in its gentle nature and tones. Blue and silver and white shone everywhere and the land of Helheim glowed from care. No one minded that Hela appeared half-dead, because they all were fully dead. She was treated well, and of all his children: Loki feared the least about her well-being. _

"_I have a gift for you…but I also have a request." _

"_A request, father? And is it a gift, or a bribe?" She saw through the fancy language of his words, and he accepted that she would. She was brilliant, and she saw through him easier than any other had ever done. _

"_Both, my lamb." _

"_I am a Queen father, such titles do not benefit me any." He apologized; both knew he didn't mean it. _She_ hadn't in the first place. "What do you require of me, father?" _

_He told her, and she looked at him as though he had lost his very mind. She scowled at him and questioned his motivations, but he shook his head and raised a hand to explain. Hela listened to him as he spoke, and when he had finished, she had slowly nodded her head in understanding. _

"_And in return for this egregious request?" Loki held up his staff, and she looked at it in confusion. And then he told her what the staff did. "Do you mean this truly, father?" _

"_Yes, my pet." _

"_Then you have a deal." And she reached for the staff. He didn't hand it to her. Instead, he raised a single eyebrow. Rolling her eyes at the display, she summoned a great book before her._

_Opening it up to the correct page with one flick of the wrist, she took hold of the pen of Hel, and she aimed it directly towards where one name was written: Loki Laufeyson. She lifted her eyes to meet her father's, and she held out her hand. He held out the staff, and she reached a hand to take it. They met each other's eyes once more. Then wi__th all the power of Hel behind her, she struck the name from the book, eliminating it entirely. The moment the name was struck out, Loki_ immediately fell to the ground, all power and energy leaving his body completely. Hela still held the staff in her hands from where Loki's last grip had failed him.

_But for all intents and purposes, Loki Laufeyson was dead to the world. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Windstar: **I do apologize for the lateness of this post, and in turn: the length. I was told that I needed to leave on a business trip and was given less than twenty four hours to pack up and head out. I've been on the road for almost two weeks now, and the hotels I've stayed at do not allow uploading for fear of viruses. That being said, I finally have a moment. I hope that you all enjoy this installment and I look forwards to reading your reviews. Thanks very much for your patience, and enjoy!

**Chapter: **

Thor hesitated before knocking on his brother's door. This was becoming a bad habit, but he knew that these dreams meant more than they seemed. He was certain something was truly wrong, and that something bad was going to happen. He couldn't shake the feeling that these dreams were a message, and despite Loki's lack of interest – they all revolved around him and his death.

Loki didn't respond to his knock, so he knocked again. Nothing happened, and he sighed. Pushing the door open, he peered inside. Proximity seemed to be the only thing that would rouse Loki from his slumber. The trickster enjoyed his rest far more than the average person, and unless he was startled out of his sleep – he would doze all day if he could.

Thor's eyes went to the "throne" but no one was there, frowning he turned to the books and found them without their reader. Turning his gaze onto the bed, he wondered how he had missed the sight in the first place. Loki was sprawled on the bed, pale faced and looking extraordinarily tired even in sleep, there was a teenaged boy on his left and a young child whose face and skin was rotting from his bones to his right. The boy's clothing was in tatters, his hair was clumped or missing all together in places, he was a specter – a dead thing and nothing more. Except, the child was looking straight at Thor: wide eyes staring at the man with _such _an expression. The boy's arms were clinging to Loki as though he was a lifeline, and Thor was frozen with shock. He had no idea what to do or say about the sight.

The child sat bolt upright, and then announced _very _loudly: "THOR!" Loki's eyes snapped open, his breath coming in a gasp at being startled. His hand shot up and clutched the back of the rotting child beside him as thought to ensure he was truly there. He hyperventilated somewhat as his fluttering heart was trying to overcome the sensation for danger.

The boy seemed to shimmer out of sight for a fraction of a moment, and Thor had to blink to ensure he'd truly seen it. Every so often the boy would simply vanish and return just where he was – as if he'd never gone. It was downright unnerving.

The god of thunder glanced towards the teenager, but he hadn't so much as budged. He slept onwards- completely oblivious to everything happening around him.

"Thor…" Loki's voice caught his attention, and he looked at his brother curiously.

"Whatever is going on, Loki?" he asked as he slowly approached the bed. He kicked the door shut behind him – tempted to lock it and make doubly sure that no one was going to come barging in on the sight before them.

"Jus…need…ed ta…" Loki's eyes were drifting closed once more, and Thor was at his side in a flash.

"What has happened to you?"

"Tired…" Loki muttered, struggling to stay focused. He slowly pushed himself upright. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, he met Thor's eyes. "Promise me….that you won't tell…" He beseeched his brother openly. The older god frowned.

"Tell what? What is going on?"

"Vali and Narfi…" Loki motioned haphazardly towards both children in turn. Thor reeled back slightly, and looked back at the dead thing at Loki's side. If it had flesh and was not staring at him with such a look of pure astonishment and confusion, Thor could _almost _see the shape of Narfi's face there.

"He's a… Vörðr?" He asked dumbly, and Loki hummed in response.

"He…followed us." Loki mumbled; words slurring slightly as he struggled to stay focused.

Thor looked down towards his other nephew, and his eyes widened as he took in the physique of the boy he once knew. Vali had grown, his baby fat was lost and now he looked almost emaciated. He had his mother's coloring, blonde hair dipped from his head. If was darker than his mother's and was borderline brunette – but it was still blonde at the end of all things.

His face was his father's, however. From the curve of his nose, to the set of his jaw, there was much of Loki in the boy. Not a boy now, he was a teenager and tall too. He was just about the same height as Loki, if not a smidge shorter – a trait from Sigyn, Thor was certain.

"You broke the spell." Thor murmured in awe, reaching out to touch the boy. Vali didn't respond to the light feeling of calloused hands on his arm or hair. Thor felt emotion welling in him; it had been a tragedy – what had befallen Loki and his children. He had loved them both dearly, and cared for them as his own.

Long ago, Thor had declared that he had not wanted children of his own, that he'd rather march into battle and focus on war and not love. So he had spared his love towards his niece and nephews – had championed them just as their father had. He had been adamantly against all the punishments that had befallen the children- Vali and Narfi most of all.

"Why does he not wake?" Thor asked, and Loki looked at him tiredly.

"My fault, I suppose." He admitted lightly. "I erased his memory." Thor gave him an alarmed look.

"Surely, only of Narfi and what has transpired."

"No, of everything." Loki replied quietly. "The mind…is fragile…with that much done to it – it needs to rest. He'll sleep for a while."

"Like you did…after Surtr's spell was cast on you?"

"Yes, something similar I suppose." Loki shrugged slightly. He glanced towards Narfi. "Now there's only deciding what is to be done about this one."

"What do you mean, 'what's to be done?' Surely they may stay here?" Loki gave him a look that clearly spoke of his distaste towards the idea.

"Vali will go to his mother, and Narfi…must be put to rest."

"But he is your son, surely-"

"Narfi died five years ago, Thor." Loki reminded his brother sharply. "His Vörðr lingers because he does not know the way to Valhalla, for he was not killed in _battle_. He is not a woman or a warrior and so he does not know the way to Folkvagner, and he was not killed by old age or disease – so Helheim is closed to him. His physical appearance here is simply a construct of that. If his Vörðr is here, than his actual spirit is lost somewhere as well." Loki sighed. "Narfi is gone, this…" He waved a hand towards the rotting child beside him. "This is a shade, and nothing more."

"And how exactly do you intend to put your son to rest?" Thor asked seriously, looking at the dead creature that was clinging to Loki suddenly, and the father sighed heavily. He lifted a hand to rub at his weary eyes.

"It is above your comprehension, though I give you my word he will not be _harmed_."

"And Vali? His mother has no memory of him."

"And he has none of her. Sigyn won't need the memory of her son to feel compelled to care for him." Loki stated with certainty. "But he cannot stay here. Not with…"

"Father would not harm him…it was not his intention to do so in the first place." Thor stated firmly.

"Just as it was not his intention to harm me when I discovered what I was." Loki snapped out just as sharply. "Father and his _intentions_ are not things that I've ever agreed with. Please spare me your platitudes _now _Thor. I have no patience for it." Thor nodded slightly, but his mind was elsewhere.

"And do you have patience for talking about your wife?" Loki's lips pressed together. "Just last month you had declared that you never wanted to speak of her again. Now your sons have returned as you suggested, and you're planning on Vali going to her. So tell me, little brother, what exactly am I to tell her when I deliver the son she has no memory of carrying?"

"You…won't have to tell her anything." Loki said slowly, expression clearly showing his disease.

"What? You want me to just leave him there without saying a word to her?" Loki rolled his eyes.

"No, I want you to let me bring him home. I'll…I'll handle it." Thor looked uncomfortable.

"To leave Asgard…father would never allow it…and besides- the Bifrost is gone. You said yourself you didn't want to see here too!" The god of thunder waved his finger accusingly.

"I said that under the condition that it would take our sons returning. As you can see, they have returned. And I told you before, the Bifrost isn't the only way to travel from Asgard."

"You're not allowed to leave Asgard." Thor stated with finality. Loki gave him a pleading look.

"Brother…I only wish to travel to give Vali to her and her family. I will return right away. You can accompany me…as a chaperone…if you believe that I shall try to flee or cause mischief somewhere." Thor looked unsettled, and Loki looked at him with a more pleading expression. "Thor, Sigyn and my children are my family. They are the family I have chosen and have created. They were the world that I made to find happiness I could never achieve. She was hurt terribly, brutally, and it was my fault. Her marriage to me has cost her her own happiness. But Vali was her son, _our _son, and she deserves to see him again. I want to bring Vali to her, if only to see them together one last time. I will not linger, I will cause you no trouble. Please, Thor, please let me at least ensure that _her _happiness has not been destroyed by my own folly." Thor pressed his lips together, but his eyes were filled with sorrow. He had been the one to carry Sigyn away from Asgard. He had been the one to take her from Loki in the first place, and he could remember all to well just what Loki looked like as he delivered the woman to him. He had never looked more distraught in all the time Thor had known him. And from that one moment, despite how months before he had made a promise not to allow Loki to leave Asgard for any reason: he slowly nodded his head.

"All right, then it seems like we're going to Vaniheim."

Loki smiled slightly and when Thor had his back turned – his grin grew bigger. The thrill of excitement that came with manipulating someone successfully coursed through him. He didn't have time to enjoy it for long, though. His weary eyes finally slipped closed and he allowed himself to drift to sleep. Thor watched over the three of them for the rest of the day.

Vali didn't so much as stir a little, but the rise and fall of his chest was evidence enough of the life force that still coursed through him. After a time, Thor himself started to doze slightly, and for another night – his mind was plagued with strange dreams involving his brother. None of it left him settled in the least.

* * *

_Dwarves were curious creatures. As Loki walked amongst them, his eyes were drawn instinctively towards their stocky stature and their blunt weaponry. The hammers and axes that accompanied them at all times were powerful and they were known for creating some of the finest weapons as well as the most delicate jewelry._

_Loki did not bother to seek out the leader of the dwarves. Instead, he sought the most skilled craftsman. He bowed out of politeness, and when the polite gesture was returned, they settled down for business. It was what he'd come for after all. _

_Dwarves were curious in the sense that they never wanted to talk to anyone unless a deal was being made. They loved bartering, and it was what many of them lived for. Loki had come prepared, and so he knew what to expect. This wasn't his first time dealing with the dwarves, and he doubted that it would be the last. _

"_You're a long way from home Asgardian." The dwarf stated to him, and he tipped his head. _

"_Yes, and I come for business." He stated evenly. The dwarf's eyes gleamed. Asgardians were some of their favorite customers – they always paid the greatest. "I wish for a staff to be made."_

"_A simple staff need not the dwarf fires make. What else do you require?" _

"_The staff is to be endowed with the magic of my choosing, and it's power and range…must be able to cover all nine realms." There were murmurs among the dwarves, and shock at the suggestion. _

"_No such amplifier exists for a weapon of destruction." _

"_It is not a weapon." Loki stated evenly. "It's…a whistle." _

"_A whistle?" _

"_Yes, a signal to summon what I wish it to summon." _

"_You wish a staff to amplify a summoning spell."_

"_In a matter of words, yes." Loki nodded. _

"_Such capabilities are like child's play."_

"_All nine realms?" Loki had the good grace to look surprised at hearing the ease of the construction. The dwarf nodded._

"_Summons are particularly easy to craft, as many wish to call forth a being from beyond the veil." _

"_Then I look forwards to seeing the end product." _

"_It will cost you."_

"_Yes, I had thought of that." Loki was wearing a satchel on his back, and now he removed it. The greedy dwarves hounded closer – eager to see what their reward would be for their accomplishment. Dipping his hand into the satchel he pulled out a wrapped bundle. All eyes stared at it in awe. _

_There in his hand were the finest gold strands that anyone had ever seen. They flitted from his fingers and coiled beautifully. They were lovely in all sense of the words. The dwarves were mystified by the coloration. They asked whom the strands belonged to, and Loki told them. _

"_And also this." He removed an ancient tome from his satchel and handed it towards the dwarf he'd been dealing with. It was a dwarven text that was focused on the ancient ways of handling and maintaining a forge- that alone was a treasure in their race. _

"_You have yourself a deal then." The dwarves were yipping with excitement, and they hurriedly set to work. Loki settled back, and he waited. They would need him soon enough to conjure the spell onto the staff. He removed another book from his satchel and he began to flip through it. He focused on the spell that he needed to use, and took a deep breath. It would take all of his power to do so. He'd be putting more than he usually had to offer – and he'd been doing that a lot lately. He didn't have time to delay, though. He needed to do this right. _

_So he sat, cross-legged, and meditated. His mind went to consolidating all of his power and magic into his hands. He was preparing to expel everything that he had. It took the dwarves three days to come to him with the empty staff. For three days he had not moved, he had simply sat still and meditated. _

_When the staff was brought before him – littered with the amplifying runes that it would need to channel and focus the magic within it – he stepped away from his meditation and held out his hand. With all of his powers ready to be transferred he murmured the words of the spell that he had memorized, and he gripped the golden staff between his hands._

_Magic snapped from him into the staff and he poured everything that he had into it. He took deep shuddering breaths to keep the power going, and he forced more and more and more. He kept forcing everything he had, lights were flickering all around him – wind was dashing in all directions, but when he was finished – the treasure would be a delight. _

_He forced every bit of magical power that he possessed into this staff, and when there was nothing left – he used his life energy to charge and empower the rod. When he'd put too much, suddenly his mind turned fuzzy and grey and it snapped shut in an instant. _

_He collapsed to the ground, and he knew no more._


	6. Chapter 6

**Windstar: ****Thank you very much to my one reviewer. I truly appreciate you taking the time out of your day to comment on this story, it means a lot to me. **This is the end of this arc, and the remaining five chapters or so will be focussed on explaining everything that's come to pass. I hope you all enjoy it, and please do review. It is easier on this system now, and really only hearing from half of the people who read would be nice.

**Chapter**

Vaniheim was beautiful. It, like Alfheim, was a land of pure green, sunshine, and lakes. The buildings were white and the construction of all things was focused purely on the heavens. Everything reached higher and higher up – hoping to breach the sky itself. It was a sight to behold.

When they had prepared to leave, Loki had been adamant that Narfi stay behind. The dead child was silent, but he clung to Loki's back and refused to release him. He was screaming – voice calling out loudly and inhumanely. He made no true words, just emotions of pure suffering. As he watched the child cling to Loki, Thor had little trouble recalling that the boy had only been five when he had been killed, and that he had been his father's shadow during all five of those years.

Loki was nothing if not a doting parent. He was constantly in trouble with the court, and he was always playing tricks on everyone, but he did care for his children and accept them as his responsibility. It was why the cruelty of Narfi's death was so traumatic for all those involved. The boy had been his precious little one, had practiced his fledging magic with him and had been so interested to learn how to do all that his father had done. The boy was a sweet child…and his death had been needlessly brutal.

But Narfi could not travel to different realms. He had died in Asgard, and he would remain in Asgard. He was a Vörðr – and only the living could traverse to other realms of the living. Loki tiredly spoke to the rotting child, until finally the screaming stopped and just the pain remained. Thor had felt endlessly guilty of leaving the boy with nothing.

His afterlife had been devoted to haunting Vali's footsteps, but now that Vali was returned to his full form and was leaving Asgard, there was nothing that Narfi could do. He was alone once more.

Loki held the boy to him once more, and pressed a kiss to the spirit's head before summoning a great wealth of his power and transporting Thor, Vali, and himself across the realms into Vaniheim. There, he had observed the beauty of the realm, and he had felt only loss and sadness for having left Narfi alone. It would not be the last time he did that.

His power was severely weakened after the transportation, and so he moved slowly through the realm. Thor carried Vali with him, and together the small family made its way towards where Sigyn was staying.

They saw her before they reached the house. Her hair was sparkling like the brightest gold, and her eyes were the brightest blue. She had flawless skin, and a striking face, and yet she was simple in all things. She dressed out of class, a fairly plain skirt and dainty brown vest over a white top. Her hair was held back with a broach, but the design was nothing fancy. There was nothing to suggest that once- she was a Princess of Asgard.

Loki looked at her, the first time in five years, and he knew he should have felt happy. Instead he was just saddened. When her eyes turned to see who was approaching, she did not recognize them. She did not know that he was her husband, and this child they brought with them was her son. She, and her flawlessly golden hair, were oblivious to all things.

She looked to the boy first, as Loki knew she would. "Fair Asgardians, what troubles you?" She asked politely, curtseying slightly to show deference to their station. Even so far from home, their garb marked them as nobility and she could tell their status quite well.

"This young one is hurt, we would wish that he remain here in Vaniheim with one that may care for him well. We have heard in Asgard of the kindness and gentleness that you and your family possess. Would you be willing to help him in this matter?" Loki spoke well. He didn't stumble over his words nor did he lose eye contact with the woman he once called wife. She stared at him for a long while, not seeming to truly comprehend what he was talking about or even the words that he was saying. "Fair maiden?" Sigyn blinked, and then her attention was once more brought on the boy in Thor's arms.

"Quickly, my home is this way. You may tell me more of your troubles; the poor child needs to rest somewhere quiet. Would you like some food or drink?" She hurriedly led them to her home, and the princes followed her.

Life with Sigyn was easy. She was genuinely friendly, and she was always trying to help. She loved all things, and when she had seen Loki's children she had not done what so many had done before. She had not turned away in shame or fear, she had simply questioned what Fenrir and Jorgummund liked to eat, and what Hela liked to play with. They had cared for her as their Stepmother, and had never been wary of her presence.

If he had never been _happy _with her, than at the very least he was accepting of her. She was simply there, that unwavering presence that was always so confident and so kind. He'd been cruel to her at times – trying to see just how far he could push her. She had accepted him, though, and she had never been shaken in her faith.

She was the goddess of devotion for a reason, and her namesake suited her well. She was utterly devoted to whatever task was presented before her. Their marriage had been the focal point of that devotion, and he regretted not being better to her. That would change…he just needed to do things right.

Vali was brought to her home and was laid on a bed that Loki suspected was her own. She looked him over, and ran a hand through his dark blonde hair. It brought back a wave of emotion and memories that Loki had difficulty interpreting. He looked away from the sight, content with the longing that was filling him. It kept him focused on what he was here for.

Thor kept rambling about something, obviously trying to ease the tension that was surrounding everyone. "Is your family not here?" He asked at one point and she shook her head.

"No, they have an annual banquet in Alfheim they attend, I did not wish to go." She looked up at Loki and rolled her lips slightly as she was obviously thinking about something hard. Thor looked between them anxiously, but Loki had no mind for dealing with his brother. He made to leave the room and the house, but Sigyn was suddenly at his side. While he knew that it was impossible for her to remember him, she was looking at him with the same gaze of dedication that she had done in the past. She was ever the faithful wife…

"Please, will you tell me about your son?" She asked him, and Loki blinked at her, mouth going dry. Thor was comically looking between them and Vali, as though he wasn't quite sure if he should get involved.

If anyone was to be considered Vali's father, it was safer to assume Thor. His blonde hair and similar stature, accompanied by the way he had carried his nephew to their doorstep was proof enough of that. Yet Sigyn had naturally sought Loki as the child's parent and it made his stomach churn with unease. He wasn't sure how he should respond to her, and he wasn't sure if he even wanted to.

He wanted to make it up to the woman, which was part of the reason why he had brought Vali there in the first place. However, admitting to her the full extent of his relations to her and him was not what he had in mind. Not yet. Perhaps not ever. She deserved better than him. Their only saving grace thus far was that her family was not there. If they were, he was certain that he would certainly _not _be welcome. That had certainly been apart of his calculations when he'd decided the time for his arrival here on Vanaheim.

"Why do you think he's _my _son?" He asked casually, and she looked flustered for a moment.

"I apologize if I have caused offence, you simply seemed like his father." He wasn't sure how, but the answer was good enough for now. Perhaps she remembered something, but it wasn't enough to cause concern.

"No offence has been taken. His name is Vali, named after my uncle." She nodded to him, face drawn in awe, and Loki found words sliding from his lips. He wasn't truly concerned with what he was saying. His mouth moved without his mind truly becoming aware of it.

At some point, he was aware that he and Sigyn had begun to go for a stroll. They walked the fields around her house, and he kept talking. She was always willing to listen, and though he knew he shouldn't be doing this, that it defied the purpose of erasing her memories in the first place – he couldn't bring himself to stop.

Sigyn smiled as he remembered her to smile. She laughed like he remembered she did. Yet there was something within her that was unbelievably sad. As he spoke, he looked her over more carefully. She looked the same outwardly, but the lines of sadness were still echoing in her face. She did not look as confident. Her shoulders were hunched more than he could recall them ever being.

The haughty nature that she had used when she combated him verbally over various difficulties in the past had dissipated. For all of her beauty and peace that she seemed to have flourished in here in Vaniheim, she struck him as being slightly…_off_.

His brows furrowed as he tried to work the problem. He wondered if he'd made a mistake when he erased her memory, if somehow he had left something that she shouldn't have recalled. He wondered if this was a new development, or if it had always been there. Had his presence changed something, or was she always suffering?

They had found themselves under a great tree that lived in the meadow behind her home. She sat with her legs tucked under her, her hands folded prettily in her lap. Loki couldn't shake the feeling that something was extremely unsettling about all of this.

"Is there something troubling you, lady?" He asked her, tone surprisingly light for him. She gave him a curious glance.

"I apologize, my lord, for I am distracted." She stated quietly.

"And what has caused this distraction, if I may inquire?" She sighed and then laughed slightly in embarrassment.

"I have been waiting, my lord, and I fear that should I travel too far from my home – what I've been waiting for will pass me by." Truly perplexed now, Loki urged her to elaborate. She laughed again, her fair cheeks blushing as she raised a hand to cover her mouth in shame. "Several years ago, I lost fifteen years of my life."

"You lost them?" He managed to somehow sound surprised.

"Yes, some spell of some sort. A sorcerer placed it upon me. I cannot recall one moment of those fifteen years."

"Shall I find this sorcerer for you? And have him return your memories that were stolen?" Sigyn shook her head at the offer, her lips curving upwards in a small smile.

"I know that they are gone, and I have accepted life without them. Yet…I know that there was someone I knew during that time. I would like to meet him again."

"I thought you could not recall that time, how do you know of this person?" There was no accusation, just curiosity. Loki's heart thundered in his chest, and Sigyn turned to look at him. Her beautiful golden hair framed her face with sunlight.

"I do not recall events, people, even what was said…but there are echoes…feelings. I recall being in love and being loved in return. I recall laughter, and perhaps…_children?_" She sighed. "My family, they do not approve when I speak of such feelings. They are convinced that I should ignore them, and not pay them any mind. Yet I long to know more."

"I could try to find this sorcerer." Again, she shook her head.

"If I was supposed to know…I would know. Perhaps those I loved are gone and I shall never see them again. If they are alive…and they truly loved me back – they will come for me." She looked at him hopefully. "And if they come, I hope that they shall tell me all that I've forgotten and we may be together again."

"Goddess of devotion indeed." Loki whispered softly, eyes sliding away from her perfect face and looking out towards the horizon.

"Do you think that I will have to continue waiting long, my lord?" She asked him softly, and he turned his attention back to her.

"No, my dear woman, not much longer." Her face burst with delight and she placed her arms around him. He flinched at the contact, and grew annoyed with the sudden affection being thrown at him. He grimaced slightly, struggling passed the initial annoyance allowing himself to place his arms around her in turn. It was the spell, he reminded himself, and he refused to be ruled by it. Not now. Not with her.

"The boy…?" Her voice was trembling in his ear.

"He is your son. Vali." He spoke their child's name, and he could feel the tears from her eyes starting to leak onto his neck.

"And you?"

"Your husband."

"And we shall be together?"

"No." Loki shook his head and removed his arms from her. Her face look horrified, truly tormented by the thought. He was suddenly reminded of how tragic she looked when she was with him during his bondage. The poison from that damned snake leaked over his face and eyes, and she dutifully stood at his side – catching the poison as it fell in a bowl of her own creation. She wept painfully for him as she hurried to dump the poison and return the bowl to catch the continuingly falling drops. She was never _quite _fast enough. He screamed unintentionally each time the venom touched him, and she had always appeared as though he'd carved her heart out with his pain.

"Why…not, my lord? If I am truly your wife?"

"I have not been a good person, Sigyn." He told her simply. "I have broken one more command in coming here. However I have brought you your son in hopes that he will do well here, for he has lost his memory-"

"From a sorcerer?"

"From the same sorcerer."

"From you?" Loki shook his head, and he lied.

"No. Not from me. It is not something I can control. I have said more than I should, and when I leave, you shall slowly forget me once more." Sigyn looked distraught at the thought.

"I mustn't! I wouldn't! You are my husband-"

"Who you have not recalled for five years. Live now, in peace with your son, Sigyn. You shall have no need of me after I leave." She pressed her lips together, and her pretty face looked truly depressed at the thought that he would no longer be with her.

Slowly she reached into the near hidden pockets of her skirt and she removed a pair of shears. Loki frowned as he watched at her. She carefully aimed it at her skirt and she cut a long strip. Then, placing the strip on her lap, she took her beautiful hair in one hand. Loki watched in fascination as she brought her shears to her hair and sliced through it completely.

Then, in one swift movement, she tied the strip of fabric around her long golden strands and she met his eyes. She lifted her hair up to him. "Please, take this from me." His hand slowly closed around it. "Even if I should forget you, I shall not forget the sight of my own hair. If you can ever manage to return, show it to me, and we shall be as we once were – and as I hope to be."

Loki looked at the golden hair in his hand and he nodded solemnly to her, then he leaned forwards and kissed her temple. A spear of magic coursed from his lips to her brain and her memory of the day was twisted and changed. She knew of the child that lay at home, and she knew that she needed to care and protect him, but as to who brought him there…she did not remember. Her eyes fluttered closed as the spell took hold, and she fell asleep against him.

He gently took her shoulders, and he leaned her against the tree. They had always been in full view of the house, and her family would find her easily enough. Standing up, he started to walk back to the house. Thor had been watching them the whole while, and he frowned when he come back alone. In his hand was Sigyn's golden hair, and Thor looked at it curiously.

"What is that?" He asked in bemusement.

"A token of her affections, so I shall not forget to return." Loki told his brother evenly, "She will care for Vali, now we must leave." Thor frowned heavily.

"Are you certain that we should be leaving like this?"

"Quite sure. I wish to be off before Vali wakes or her family returns…and Narfi shall be causing a stir in Asgard by now." Thor glanced back towards where Sigyn was still sitting.

"Is she all right?"

"Quite." Loki repeated the phrase and then placed a hand on his brother's arm. He whispered a subtle incantation and the ground shifted beneath them. They vanished in a flash, returning to Asgard.


	7. Chapter 7

**Windstar: ****Thank you very much to my two reviewers. **I really appreciate your kindness and your words. I only have one chapter after this, and the entire story will be over. I hope you all have enjoyed the ride- even those who haven't reviewed. Thanks once again, and please enjoy!

**Chapter: **

_Loki had not remained in Asgard for long. He waited for all eyes to turn away from him, and then he had cast a spell on the locks that had kept him trapped in his room, and he slipped away to the stables. __Narfi had followed him to the stables, crying the whole while. Loki hadn't felt the slightest bit of guilt in placing a bit of silencing magic on him so that no one could hear the Vörðr's shouting. The boy was mouthing wordlessly at him, but he didn't look towards him at all. Instead, h_e placed a hand on Sleipnir's neck. 

"_How do you feel about helping your brother?" Loki asked his eldest son. The horse looked towards the Vörðr curiously, but then he nodded his great head. Loki reached up, and placed his hand on the horse's muzzle. His finger traced over his skin lightly and almost absentmindedly. "We shall be riding long and hard between realms. Odin has not sanctioned this. I will be breaking my oath to stay in Asgard." Regardless of having already done so with Thor, Loki knew that leaving like this would be something else entirely. _

_Sleipnir nodded his great head, and so Loki requested if he could ride his son – and the horse lowered himself to be mounted with ease. Climbing aboard, Loki glanced down at Narfi. The rotting shade of his son looked up at him with a mindless disposition. It reacted to instinct and instinct alone, but if it was reunited with the true soul of Narfi…and shadow and truth could merge – his son's soul would be at peace. _

_Loki clicked with his tongue and Sleipnir shot from the stable, the magic within his son was mainly on transportation, and Loki always grinned when he saw it being used. Now, Sleipnir knew the path that Loki would travel, and he had a meeting with the dwarves._

* * *

Thor snapped awake to feeling a rotting hand touch his face. He shouted in shock as he opened his eyes and looked at his nephew. Narfi was looking down at him with wide eyes. "Thor!" He said insistently. Thor stared at the decomposing body that Narfi currently possessed, and felt his stomach churn.

"Why are you here?" He asked the boy. The Vörðr stamped his foot.

"Thor!" He said again.

"I don't know what you want." Thor murmured tiredly, rolling on his side. He had been out on a hunt, hoping to clear his head and letting Odin clear his before travelling back to Asgard. The All Father had not been pleased when he had discovered that Thor had allowed Loki to leave the city. Loki had been sent to his rooms, and the doors had been locked behind him. No one was allowed to visit the Prince, and truthfully – no one save Thor wanted to.

Frustrated with his father and needing to calm down, the blond god had left and flown as far as he could without leaving the realm. There, he had enjoyed fighting wild beasts and taking his frustrations out on the world around him.

"Thor!" The child repeated, and the god of thunder's brows furrowed. Shaking his head, he looked out towards the horizon. It was just edging towards dawn. Sighing in defeat, the boy continuing to call his name, the blonde started to collect his equipment. He grudgingly realized it was time to return to Asgard, and at the very least he could hand Narfi back to Loki.

The journey back to the city took him nearly a week to complete, and his strange dreams continued. They persisted to haunt him every night, and during the day – Narfi was shouting his name and he had no idea what the child wanted. It was making his anger grow and his temper short.

When he finally arrived at the palace, he was dirty, tired and sore. He had flown the whole way – simply eager to get rid of his nephew. His first thought was to go down the long and familiar hallways that led to his brother's door. All the time, the Vörðr called his name more and more insistently. He was clearly agitated about something, but the shade had not been given enough of a mind to be able to speak. He couldn't explain what was wrong.

Thor sighed and knocked on the door. Loki didn't respond, but he doubted he would. Loki had such a mind for sulking when he so chose. Thor doubted it would be unlocked, Odin's orders had been clear, and yet he tried the handle anyway. It opened for him and he blinked in surprise. Stepping inside, he called his brother's name. The room was dark, and he was prepared to just deposit the child in Loki's arms and return to bed. He was exhausted from their trip to Vaniheim, and he was certain that he was going to have to fight with Odin later over their excursion.

Reaching for the newest lamp that had been added to Loki's rooms, Thor lit it quickly and raised it to view the bed. Empty. The desk – empty. The throne – empty. Thor blinked in confusion, and looked towards Narfi. "Where is he?" He asked simply, and the specter stamped his foot again.

"Thor!" He said loudly, and the blonde groaned.

"I do not know what you want." He replied. He looked around the rooms. "Has father freed him? Perhaps he has grown hungry? Is he in the kitchens?" He murmured aloud.

"THOR!" Narfi was glaring at him, and he ran a hand through his hair.

"Child, I do not know what you want, can you not say something else? Can you not find your father and speak with him?" he had been saying the same thing for far too long, and his patience was at its limit.

"Thor, Thor, Thor-" Sighing in frustration, the god of thunder began to walk from the rooms. He moved purposefully towards the kitchens. All the while the Vörðr followed him. His persistence was growing on the verge of irritation, and he honestly couldn't stand to listen to the child's voice a moment longer. He was starting to truly understand how Vali had been driven mad over the years being haunted by his brother's shade.

The kitchens were empty save the servants, and so Thor tried the library. That too was empty. He stepped into the great hall, but only the Warriors Three were there. Fandral turned to see him when he stepped through the door. He waved him over, and his face was clearly prepared to relay the latest gossip. He was just about to, when he caught sight of Narfi following behind Thor.

"What on earth is that creature?" Fandral asked as he looked at the rotting child.

"Thor!" The boy stated, face scowling in anger. The blonde prince sighed and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"It is Narfi's Vörðr, he has…found his way to the palace and has been quite insistent as of late. I have not the faintest idea why."

"Perhaps it is due to Sleipnir's disappearance?" Fandral stated, gossip back on his mind as he moved closer towards his friend.

"Sleipnir has disappeared?" Thor's blood ran cold as his recent dreams came to mind.

"Yes, several days ago he vanished from the stable. The servants insist that he was there one night, but in the morning he vanished! None can understand it, and he doesn't allow anyone except the All Father to ride him. So who has taken him? And where has he gone?"

Thor bit his tongue as he knew the error in Fandral's opinion. Odin was not the only one that Sleipnir allowed to ride him. Loki and Hela could also ride him, but Hela was in Helheim…and Loki was missing.

Thor turned on a dime, running as hard and as fast as he could towards the stable. He threw open the doors and his eyes were immediately drawn towards Sleipnir's stall. Empty, and not just empty, but looking _exactly _as it had in Thor's dream. His heart pounded heavily in his chest as he turned to look at Narfi.

"Where is your father?"

"Thor!" The boy cried out.

"Narfi, where is Loki?"

"Loki?" The name left Narfi's mouth in curious awe, and Thor nodded his head.

"Yes, Loki, where is he? Sleipnir too?"

"Sleipnir!" Narfi hurried to the stall and frowned. He stamped his foot. "Loki Sleipnir?" He asked Thor, and the blonde god sighed in frustration. The boy was no help whatsoever.

Moving with great speed, he swung Mjolnir in a great arc and burst into the sky. It took him only moments to fly to the remains of the Bifrost, where Heimdal stood guard. "Good Heimdal, I would request from you a favor."

"Yes, my Prince?"

"May you turn your gaze to my brother and tell me of his whereabouts?" He asked hopefully, but Heimdal was already shaking his head.

"From the moment he fell from the Bifrost, he as been lost to me. I have not seen him even when he has walked before me. He is always hidden from my mind's eye." Panic began to settle within Thor's chest as he nodded his head. "You cannot find him? Is he not in his rooms, where he was to be locked behind closed door?" Heimdal asked, and the god of thunder awkwardly shook his head.

"I am certain it is but a folly of mine, I shall locate him soon enough." The gatekeeper nodded, but his expression remained doubtful. All the while, Thor wondered just how he was going to find his brother if he didn't wish to be found or disturbed. Loki never made it easy to locate or track him, and he never would – it was against his very nature.

Anxiously, Thor tried to recall what happened in his dream, but it had ended abruptly after Narfi had pounced on him. There had to be more. There _had _to be. He ran to his bedroom, and lay down in his bed. Closing his eyes he tried to will himself to sleep. Nothing worked; his adrenaline was pounding in his chest far too much for that.

He rolled over and over again, trying to get comfortable and trying to push himself to the point of sleep so he could grasp the last tendrils of the dream vision that he was certain it had been. Nothing came to him, and after an hour of trying, he went to his father. As he approached the throne room, he glanced down to where Narfi had been following him for days on end. The boy was nowhere to be seen, and he let out a breath of air. At least that wouldn't have to be explained.

Stepping into the room, he quickly moved towards his father and spoke without preamble: "I believe I may know where Sleipnir and Loki are."

"Loki? I had not known he was missing." Thor winced at that. Loki truly must have done a masterful job at his escape if the All Father hadn't even realized it had transpired.

"Yes…he is no longer in the palace." Odin's face turned murderous, and Thor was quick to continue.

"I have had strange dreams of late, each leading to Loki's death. In one such dream, he presented the dwarves with a bundle of golden hair. When we were in Vaniheim, Sigyn gifted Loki such a lock as a boon…I believe that he has done as my dream foretold, and gone to the dwarves."

"The dwarves?"

"Long have they coveted the golden hair of the Vanir, and their beauty is much treasured in their realms. As payment for a weapon, I believe Loki would have made a great offer if he delivered Sigyn's hair to her." A foul feeling was curling in Thor's stomach as he realized that Loki's reasoning for helping Vali now after all this time had not come from care for his son, but of manipulation towards making him agree to allow Loki to go.

His brother had known that without good cause, Thor would not have allowed him to teleport to Vaniheim. He would have been caught, and his boon taken from him. Now, now Thor had not only allowed him to go –he'd gone with him and said nothing at the token of affection that Sigyn had given to her husband.

Loki had not even glanced at Vali when they had left; he had simply deposited the child. Once he had gotten what he'd wanted he was on his way, and Thor felt hatred and anger coursing through him. He hated falling for one of Loki's schemes, but this seemed far worse than those before. This was a family matter that he had manipulated for his own benefit, and he would not stand for it.

"Please allow me to travel to the dwarves so that I may see if my dreams have been a foreshadow of events to come." Odin looked troubled as Thor spoke, and he shook his head.

"You say that in each of these dreams, Loki has died?" He asked carefully, and Thor nodded his head.

"It seemed as so." Odin nodded sharply and waved his hand.

"You have my permission. Travel to the dwarves; determine if your brother has been there. I wish to know all that has transpired." Thor bowed low and then quickly left the throne room.

He hurried as fast as he could towards the weapons vault. Without Loki, there was only one power that was strong enough to enable him to travel between the worlds on his own. He still was uncomfortable using the Tesseract in such a way, but it needed to be done. No harm would come to it or him while he was on his journey.

Thor stood before the blue cube and took a deep breath; he reached for it, and allowed his will to tumble over it. In his mind he saw the homeland of the dwarves and he willed the cube to take him there. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in the same smithy that Loki had been bartering in. Anger crossed his features as his eyes immediately fell on the long locks of hair that Sigyn had so willingly donated to Loki – believing that her husband would use them as a reminder of her. How much she had been tricked once again.

"You! Smith!" Thor shouted, barging forwards and pointing to the dwarf that was the same one he had watched forge the staff to give to Loki. "Where is my brother, Loki?" the dwarf looked surprised, not only at the sudden entry, but at the angry question directed towards him.

"The good Prince has left." The dwarf stated firmly, glaring at him and giving him a look that clearly showed him just what was thought of him. By calling Loki the 'good Prince' he'd implied there was a bad prince, and that Thor was acting unjustly. Thor knew he was, but he was too rushed and hurried to make proper amends.

"I apologize for my haste good dwarf, but I am in need of my brother's location. Did he not say where it was that he was travelling to?"

"No, he said nothing."

"And how did he leave? He is well then, I take it?"

"Slept for two days, he did. Right there on the floor." The dwarf waved his hand towards the spot that Thor had seen his brother collapse. Not dead then…exhausted. Loki had collapsed after using all of his magic on Vali as well. "We believed him dead and went to have him moved, but that horse of his wouldn't let it be done. Stood there guarding him until he sprang to life and mounted him. Probably used everything he had to charge that staff."

"And what exactly does that staff do?" Thor questioned, but the dwarves didn't know for certain. They only knew what they had amplified it for, and Thor knew the answer to that as well – summoning magic.

Thor grimaced as he realized that he was going to be in a great deal of trouble soon. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. He needed to know more…what happened? What happened next? He struggled to remember the order it all went in.

Then, it came to him – Hela, and Helheim. That's where Loki had the staff. He'd given it to Hela, in order to have his name struck from the book of Hel: the book that controlled the very time and date of life and death itself.


	8. Chapter 8

**Windstar: **Thank you all very much for your continued support and reading. This is the final chapter of this story, and I hope you all enjoy it. I hope that as this is the final chapter those of you who have been lurking wouldn't mind letting me know your final thoughts on the story. I always look forwards to the reviews in order to help myself grow as a writer. Please let me know what you think. All the best - Windstar.

**Chapter: **

Thor didn't know the Tesseract was powerful enough to help him travel to Helheim, but he was grateful that he hadn't miscalculated when he saw the realm around him. It had been a success, and here he was in the glowing luminescence of his niece's world. He walked through the land, moving carefully through the paths of the dead and watching as the spirits of the old and the sick moved in peace.

He found Hela by a great body of silver water. The luminescent grass merged into the forest of the damned and the shining trees accented the scene. It would have been beautiful had the dead not been everywhere. Hela didn't seem to mind or notice the spirits that floated past her or the coming and goings of those in her care. She was standing by the water, watching one of the dead children she looked after swim in the lake. Her face was pleasant to look at, and Thor took a double take as he observed her.

Slowly, her eyes slid towards him. "You are far from home, Asgardian." Hela reserved the familiar term only for her father, it seemed. Thor didn't care though, his eyes were immediately drawn to the staff in her hands. It was truly a well-crafted weapon, whatever it was. It was long and noble looking – for all intents and purposes it could have been a scepter fit for a Queen.

"Hela, I would know what that staff is, and where the man who gave it to you went." He didn't need to look around him to know for certain that Loki was no longer here. He had left long before, and Thor's anxiety was only mounting. He looked at his niece long and hard, but she was not intimidated by him. She never had been. She had less of a reason to be afraid now. Thor knew that he could not conquer death, and that was what she represented. She was above him now, and he wanted no quarrel with her.

"This staff expands my powers, Thor." She had not called him 'uncle' since the day she had been sent from Asgard. He had not expected her to. She moved towards him slowly, and held it before her. He wondered if she intended to offer it to him, but she made no move to deliver it to his palm. Instead she rotated it so that it was vertical, and then she slammed the bottom end into the ground. The earth spat out wind around them, and Thor felt the thrum of energy.

All around him he could feel spirits and souls calling out – at first he thought it was crying and screams of pain, but instead he realized it was laughter and delight. It was the sound of long lost friends meeting again for the first time in a long while. It was strangely glorious. He looked at Hela in abject confusion. He did not understand what she was saying, or what the staff was doing.

When the wind died, though, he watched as Hela turned her head back towards the water. A pleasant smile crossed her features and the spirit she'd been watching early came towards her. It was splashing happily as it swam, and when it came to the shoreline, Thor got a better look at it. It, was more of a who, and he recognized the "who" immediately. Narfi. The boy was no longer the dead and rotting thing that had been haunting his brother, father, and Thor for so long. He wasn't a shade or a Vörðr, He was a child: whole and complete. Well kept black hair hung to his shoulders, bright blue eyes sparkled on his face; his skin was flushed pink and healthy. His clothing was well suited for a true Prince of Asgard, and he looked every bit the happy child that Thor had known and loved five years previously. Hela had watched over him like a dutiful sister, and now the boy was back at her side and well in her care. He should have been damp from his swim, but he was fully dry and just as darling as Thor remembered him.

Thor felt his knees grow weak, and he knelt before the boy. He reached out his hands and the child ran to him, calling his name and thanking him for playing. Tears started to form in Thor's eyes as he looked up at Hela. A true smile was on her face and she slowly lowered herself to be at his level. As a Queen, she needn't have had to crouch, but she did here. She placed a hand on her little brother's hair and happiness glowed from her features.

"This staff, Uncle," the term startled him, "calls all Vörðr and lost souls that cannot find their way to Valhalla, Folkvagner, or Helheim. It calls those that have died, but cannot find their way to eternal peace. It protects the dead, and enables them to come to where they will always be loved and guarded. That is the gift my father gave me. He gave me the power to truly tend to those in my care, and to not fear for those I cannot find." And it _was _a mighty gift. It had taken all of Loki's power and abilities. Thor remembered how in his dream, Loki had collapsed in a dead faint – almost certainly extending the last bit of energy he had in him in order to ensure the staff's continuing work. When he'd arrived in Alfheim, he'd still looked strained and weary, and that's where Thor knew his brother had gone now.

Narfi had left Thor when he had been about to enter Odin's throne room, and now he knew why – Hela had called him home. Taking a deep breath, Thor nodded his head. "Tell me Hela, what did you give your father in return for such a gift?" Hela then showed him the book of the dead, and the place where Loki Laufeyson had been crossed off.

"He has one chance, and that is all I promised him." Was all she said. Thor looked at the book for a long while, his eyes boring into the letters before him. All other names and dates were blurred, and all he could see was the one that Hela wanted him to see – so was her power. She would not allow anyone else to know anything she determined they couldn't read. It was only fair after all- knowledge of the exact day and time of one's death was not a good one.

Then, as he looked at the words, the scratch that had been torn through Loki's name vanished instantly. "Oh…" Hela was watching it as well, and Narfi squirmed in Thor's grip so he could see what was so interesting about the book.

"What does that mean?" Thor asked. Hela just smiled and the book vanished. She held a hand to Narfi, and the boy quickly hurried towards her.

"Good day Uncle, I can tell you no more." She started to walk away, and Thor let her go. Narfi turned back to look at him, and he smiled brightly. Waving his fingers towards Thor in an innocent goodbye, the god of thunder knew that the boy would be all right. He was finally whole, and at peace. Hela would care for him as she did all those who died and were under her protection: with love and respect. She may even care for him more, because she had loved this child before he had died.

Thor withdrew the Tesseract, and concentrated on Alfheim. The journey was a short one, and when he appeared upon the border of the lake of knowledge, he was met with the astonished gazes of the good elves he'd seen in that second dream so long ago. They had all been talking amongst each other, and now that Thor was here, they flocked to him.

"How was it possible? How did it happen? Truly a miracle! He must be blessed!" Thor blinked as they spoke all in unison and he tried to work out just what they were trying to tell him. He nodded his head awkwardly, but finally he saw the woman who had taken Loki out to the lake in the first place.

"My lady, my brother?" He questioned pleadingly and she urged him to come towards her. He did as she bid, and she pressed her palm to his. Instantly his mind filled of images.

_He saw Loki falling backwards – disappearing into the water. A smile formed on his brother's lips as he was completely submerged. A true sight of happiness coursed through him, and then – his eyes widened and his heart stopped. His spirit tore from his body, and he was dead. It had been as they had always known – breaking the spell would leave Loki dead. The spell would be over, but he would never live to enjoy it._

_In this vision world the elf maiden had trapped Thor in, he watched as Sleipnir appeared from the shoreline. He was rearing and bucking angrily. He was filled with great sadness as he watched his father's dead body slowly begin to rise to the surface of the lake. "I am sorry, son of Loki, for your loss." The elf maiden spoke to the horse. She carefully assisted the body towards the shore and the horse pressed his nose against Loki's chest._

_Light burst from everywhere, and the elves shielded their eyes in surprise. Thor too, as he watched the scene from their memories, was stunned by the glory of this light. He winced, as it only grew brighter. It sparkled and shone, and yet soon enough it faded. It faded, and Loki lay there – eyes wide and chest heaving as he gasped for breath._

_He lay there for quite some time, and everyone could only stare at him in dumb shock. Then, suddenly, he burst out laughing. He started laughing so hard that he was in hysterics, tears were pouring from his eyes and his smile only grew wider and wider. He threw his arms around Sleipnir's neck and hugged the horse that was whinnying and yipping excitedly._

_Thor felt his own heart hammer in his chest as he witnessed this scene. Loki…was happy, and not faking happiness or hiding sadness, he was truly happy. The expression on his brother's face was one that he had not seen for centuries. It was one of unbridled joy and excitement._

_Loki spun on his heels and kissed the elf maiden on the cheeks, thanking her for everything. He delivered to her two great books from the saddlebags on Sleipnir's back. Both books were filled with ancient lore pertaining to the elves. It was a gift, and one that would be treasured._

_Then, he mounted Sleipnir, and his mouth turned wicked once more. "Come, son, we're going to have fun you and I. I feel the urge for mischief, and I know just who shall be harmed." The great horse whinnied once more, and then took off running – teleporting through speed alone and vanishing out of sight._

Thor was pulled from the vision and he met the elf maiden's eyes. "Your brother has done us a great service, these books were once lost to our people. We wish him well on his journey, and hope that he enjoys this second chance." Thor nodded his head.

"If he only lives to tell about it."

Taking hold of the tesseract once more, he prayed that this journey was possible, and he focused his thoughts on Muspelheim. For some reason, an old Midgardian saying wound itself in his mind, and he couldn't help himself but saying aloud: it seems all roads lead to Muspelheim. Then he was off – and he vanished from Alfheim in the blink of an eye.

* * *

The fire of Muspelheim raged around Loki, but he did not fear this place. He had cast a very strong protective barrier around him, and he knew just as well that two could play at this game. Every step he took sent ice into the ground beneath him, and froze it for a moment longer than absolutely necessary. He was purposefully keeping the ice alive – and the trail was large enough for any self-respecting fire-giant to trace.

He was not surprised in the slightest when a relatively angry welcome met him at the front gate of Surtr's palace. He didn't care, though. He smiled winningly at the guards that were around the palace walls – and then promptly sent a wave of furious power straight at them.

Giants went flying, the gates crushed under the power of his rage. Loki marched through the castle with no trouble – anyone who attempted to stop him was immediately repelled with power that was unparalleled. He'd been working on this plan longer than any other, and now that it was here before him – he could taste the victory that was at hand.

The doors to Surtr's throne room were smashed open with a twist of his hand, and Loki stood before the master of this realm with his head held high and a leering smile on his face. The King stood, walking down his steps and approaching the much smaller nobleman before him.

"Well, well, well…if it isn't the frost-giant in godly clothing." Surtr smiled at him, smoke billowed from his mouth as his large hands settled on his even wider hips. Loki kept grinning up at him, confidence rolling off of him in waves.

"I have a proposition for you, Surtr. One that I would strongly urge you to consider." The King laughed, fire and smoke dancing around his lips and sliding over his shoulders.

"You cannot honestly believe you have anything to bargain with, son of Laufey?" Loki didn't so much as flinch at the title, he just dipped his head.

"I do. I will give you what you want most in this world, if you will give me what I want most."

"And what would that be, little prince?" Loki raised his hand, and a silver wisp of magic joined with blue beams of light, all circling his palm and joining together until a swirling mist of color and power was there to behold.

"This is a gateway, one that I control and warp to suit my needs. What I'm offering, Surtr, is Asgard itself. I will bring your army there, and you may lay siege to it – as you've always wanted. You will no longer be held captive in this realm." Surtr grinned toothily.

"And in return?" He asked lightly.

"My happiness, back, without the unfortunate side effect of killing me the moment I achieve it." Surtr's laughter echoed through the entire realm – knocking against granite and fire, and cascading around the burning sands of volcanic ash.

"Over eight hundred years have passed without it, why wish it now?"

"Asgard, for what you took from me as a child. That is your offer." Loki stated firmly, refusing to answer the giant or deliberate any further with him. The giant laughed louder this time, before slowly crouching so he was able to look the god in the eye.

"Your offer…is denied." Shock crossed Loki's features, and suddenly from the ground around him – giants sprang up. The earth shifted away as the entire hall was filled with them. They burst from the shadows, forming themselves before his eyes and as he reached for his power to blast them all back – Surtr reached for his and sent a raging beam of fire down at the god's startled body. Surtr's gift tore through the Prince's shields and barricades, and the god hit the ground in pain.

"You wish to be trapped here for all time? To never again be able to conquer other realms? I'm giving you your freedom!" Loki hissed as he struggled against the heat. He felt his brow begin to dampen badly, his skin starting to flake – he hated this heat.

"No, boy, I wish to be free. But my freedom will not come from a treacherous snake like you. You, who murdered your own kin in order to keep the charade of your heritage going? You, who betrayed Laufey with the same promise you spin to me? I would never trust you to honor this arrangement. You are cursed to be a miserable wretch for all times and nothing you have to offer will change that. I have not the patience or tolerance for one such as you." Surtr flicked his hand and the very ground beneath Loki burst into flames.

The god bit back a scream, but soon it didn't matter. His mind shifted and fell – loosing its processing as he was scorched from all sides. "You deserve all of this and more frost giant. You dare march into my realm and command me? Die! You arrogant creature!" Surtr was glowering angrily at him, and Loki finally managed to look up passed the flames to meet his eyes.

"You will regret this day." He said softly, but Surtr just laughed.

"I have nothing to regret. You, exiled little creature that you are, have no one to avenge you. Laufey did not deserve the punishment you bestowed upon him, and now…you will die." Fire burst through him, and Loki shouted in pain once more, his skin tore off. His eyes burst from heat, his blood hardened in his vessels and exploded out of their veins.

When his death came, it came with pain and fire and torment. When the fire stopped, all that was left of him was a scorched corpse that was smoking from every orifice. Surtr's laughter coursed through Muspelheim and the sons of Muspel joined in.

Loki was dead, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Only, Loki couldn't be dead, Thor reasoned as he watched this scene from the relative safety of the sky above. Loki had no need to bargain for his happiness, for he had already achieved it. Loki had told him before that he knew that Surtr wasn't foolish enough to fall for the same trick Laufey had. Loki would never have done something so bluntly…and where was Sleipnir?

The answer came soon enough, when Thor watched the scene below him unfold. While Surtr had been busy with the _very _corporeal image of Loki, all of the god's sorcerers had been slaughtered. They had been in deep meditation, an event that they only practiced once a year. The meditation had been there for them to focus and to channel their powers. Later, Thor would discover a chapter on Surtr's magic-men in one of the books that Loki had been dedicating himself to. For now, he simply believed that Loki must have known what he was doing…and that his brother was never inaccurate in anything he did.

Surtr _didn't _have the magical ability to place a curse as strong as the one that was placed on Loki, but his sorcerers did. They were the ones that had ruined the young Prince's life so many centuries before, and now his revenge had been sated. Thor knew that Loki was never finished in anything he had done.

All of the fire-giant's texts, all of his work, all of his information on Asgard and the nine realms – all of them had vanished without a trace. No one knew where they were, and no one knew who could have taken them. Surtr angrily pronounced that there had been spells ensuring that those volumes could not possibly leave the realm.

Yet they were gone, and there was nothing he could do about it. In a fit of pure rage, he set fire to his home, burning it and all its inhabitants with fire that was beyond what a regular fire giant could withstand. Everything was destroyed, and there was nothing left of it all. Surtr had been trying to find a way out of Muspelheim for years – always eager to take on Asgard and her people. Now, with all of his information gone and his sorcerer's dead, he had nothing to hold on to. His final chance at escaping this realm was taken from him.

Thor couldn't help but smile as he looked at the sight below him. Loki wouldn't be here any longer, and Thor knew he couldn't linger. He had no desire to be caught in Muspelheim after the mess that Loki had created. Using the tesseract, Thor travelled to Vaniheim. It was the only other place he could think of that Loki might have travelled to, here at the end of all things.

* * *

Thor stepped foot onto the grassy meadows of Vaniheim, and he walked casually towards Sigyn's home. His eyes were drawn immediately towards the large eight-legged horse that was grazing innocently not far away. The horse looked over towards him boredly, and Thor waved slightly. Sleipnir returned to grazing without so much as a flick of the tail, and the god of thunder rolled his eyes at the display.

He knocked politely on the door of the home, but no one answered. Feeling like a pattern had developed somewhere, Thor opened the door, and stepped across the threshold at the same time that a powerful flash of light coursed through the room.

He rubbed at his eyes, but they focused quickly enough. When he could see clearly, he saw his brother standing before him, his _true _staff, and not the one that he had given to Hela, was in his hand and he looked truly _happy_. He was smiling brightly up at him, and Thor couldn't help but grin back.

"Tell me, were the visions from you as well?" Thor asked evenly, approaching his brother casually. Loki nodded his head.

"Just now, I sent the glimpses of the past to you. The cycle is complete." Thor grimaced as he recalled the light he'd just observed.

"Why send them at all?"

"I appreciated your attempts over the years to be my friend, to make up for what you had done, but I wished to do something to show you what you could have caused. The half visions and truths that only showed you partially what occurred and always the worst of it, was simply a trick…a bit of fun." Thor nodded good-naturedly.

"Let me surmise what I have seen, little brother." Loki waved his hand for Thor to continue, the smile never left his face – the light never left his eyes. "You purposefully waited until the right time where Sigyn's family was not here, and then you transformed Vali back to his natural form. You used your son's body as a way to convince me to let you go to Vaniheim legally, then you manipulated your wife into giving you a boon that you promptly gave the dwarves so they would make you a staff that you could bewitch and give to Hela, and then she struck your name off the book of the dead so that when you died you would not be taken to the lands of the dead, and when you were resurrected – something I still don't quite understand – you enacted your revenge on Surtr and those under him, all without being caught or having anyone guess your true motivations?" Loki grinned.

"I always have been the more clever than you, brother." Thor laughed with delight and wrapped his arms around Loki, who hugged him in turn. "I did tell you when I decided to go achieve my happiness it would be beyond your intelligence."

"That you did, little brother. Now, tell me, how _did_ you return to your body?"

"Sleipnir. Surely you saw me draw that symbol on his nose at the stable?"

"I did, I took no mind of it." He hadn't, to him – Loki was simply petting the friendly beast.

"It was a seal that connected to a similar seal I'd drawn on myself. When the two marks touch, it creates a beacon. It's original purpose is to summon a soul of my choosing, and in this case – I chose my own soul to be contained back in my own body. I had been dead, and officially dead by then – for well over twenty minutes. The curse had been destroyed, and there were no specifications for...well…reanimation I suppose would be the best term for it. During the twenty minutes that I was dead, I travelled to Helheim where I waited for Sleipnir to summon me. For a time, my soul had been somewhat officially a resident in a land of the dead – binding the contract completely. But Helheim could not accept me because I was not in the book of the dead. And so while I could stay there temporarily, I was still only visiting. Hela had given Garm, the warden of Helheim, the strictest command to allow me to pass – despite it not normally being allowed. I entered, and when Sleipnir summoned me – I was able to return to my body: alive, and happy. The spell was much the same as the one on the staff I gave to Hela, only it summoned me specifically."

"And now?" Thor asked him. The door to the room opened, and Loki turned and looked at his wife as she entered. Vali was just behind her. He was awake now, and looking meek and shy behind his mother. Both, though, only seemed to have eyes for Loki.

"Now, I return to Asgard and live out the rest of my days in 'captivity,' never to leave the realm again. Only this time my family shall come with me, and I shall be _happy _to have them." Sigyn's lips burst in a great smile, and she moved to hold her husband, and Vali quietly approached, curious to know what was happening and why. There was quite a bit of explaining that needed to be done as far as he was concerned. It would take a long while, but Loki was clearly prepared for that task.

"But how _did _you remove those books from Muspelheim?" Thor asked in curiosity. At that, Loki truly did start to laugh wholeheartedly.

"They were never taken. Those spells were secure, and the books remained. Only they could not be seen or touched, I transfigured them into illusions that would only break under extreme heat." Thor could only blink at that, and as he recalled how Surtr had angrily burnt down his home –the angry King had destroyed the very books he'd been looking for.

Thor couldn't help it, he laughed, and laughed and laughed.

It was messy, and complicated, and so much could have gone wrong, but once Loki had known the cause of his misery and his malcontent – nothing had been able to stop him and his pursuit of happiness. All it took was some cunning, manipulation, and a bit of mischief.


End file.
